If I Die before I Wake
by HopeSproutsWings
Summary: In which Gabriel doesn't die, although sometimes he wishes he had, and attempts to become part of the flock again while reconciling with his asshat brothers. There's always trouble in paradise...(Starts after Hammer of the Gods)
1. Second Chance

**For everyone who thought Gabriel shouldn't have died, and that having an Archangel on team freewill would have saved Bobby and Cas from both supreme acts of bravery and mild stupidity,(no offense, Cas) here is my story of Gabriel's second chance. Written for my sister, and because no one wanted to see Cassie and Bobby die.**

Chapter 1: Brothers

Gabriel _really _didn't want to get up. It was a human thing to say, but he didn't care because right now, he _hurt. _It was like Michael attempting archery practice when they were Cherubs, and he missed, hitting him in the leg. Quite the feat, since he was pointing the arrow in the opposite direction, but that wasn't the point. Someone was calling his name, telling him to get up, and Gabriel had the funny feeling that smiting whoever it was would only cause him immeasurable amounts of agony. Not that it would really matter either way. He felt like he'd gone a couple of rounds with death and at least a thousand transport trucks. Or his own blade, both were quite painful.

Groaning softly, he pressed a hand to his chest and let out a choked yell. Gabriel's grace was slipping away fast, which meant so was his life. But as quickly as it disappeared, it was put back. A gentle hand stroked the hair away from his face and murmured, "Open you're eyes, my son."

Immediately, his eye shot open. _No, I-It couldn't be…_

It was. Standing in front of him was a man with the strongest aura he'd ever seen. In fact, one he himself had only seen a handful of times. God, or Chuck the Prophet as the two knuckleheads called him, was crouched at his side in the wreckage of the hotel with a hand on his cheek. Gabriel could feel the grace and love pouring through his father in an effort to keep his own in one piece. Laughing a bit breathlessly, he wheezed, "Nice one, dad. Mikey would never look for you on earth, and Raphael would probably try to smite you…" pausing for a quick breath of air, he winced and whispered flatly, "Then again, he's smiting everyone these days."

His Father flinched at the emotionless words of accusation that were clear under the simple comment. _You left us, It's you're fault we're broken._

Gabriel didn't truly believe it was God's fault. If anything, It was Lucifer's. The brightest angel, the Star of the Morning, had suddenly become the Mourning Star. Gone was the familiar laughter and happy pranks with his brothers. Sparring, wing grooming, hell, even just _looking_ at each other was intolerable. When Michael wanted to go after Lucifer, Gabriel had lost all will to fight. How could he choose between his Commander, the brother who had taught him to fight, or the Fallen Star, who had taught him to fly? No. It wasn't possible to choose. So he faked his own death, taking the Pagan God Loki as his vessel in exchange for saving his life. He was perfectly fine, until Dean Winchester told him the truth.

_God, being a martyr isn't as fun as I thought it would be,_ he internally moaned. _Stupid team Freewill and Cassie's puppy eyes._

Sighing softly, Gabriel pushed the pain into the back of his mind and hauled himself to his feet. Ignoring the hand Father put under his arm, he turned and shakily bowed. The messenger never could stay angry. Not even at Raphael. Instead, all he felt was the painful love to his family that was rarely, if ever, returned. Angels, by God's will, were emotionless creatures. With all that they'd seen in their lives, Gabriel knew they were afraid of being hurt if they showed their true emotions or thoughts. Just look at Lucifer! The Archangel was the only one who made the effort to let his feelings be known, and now he was on a rampage following his true vessel. Yet Gabriel still loved him fiercely.

It was this love that forced him to act. He'd discovered that humans were truly interesting creatures, not toys to be played with. They had feelings, they fought and killed, but in the end they were better than angels, God's perfect creations, could ever be.

Because they could forgive.

God must have read his mind, because he was pulled into a tight hug. Feeling like a Cherub again, Gabriel willingly wrapped his arms around 'Chuck the Prophet' and started to cry. Great heaving sobs that made his three pairs of wings flare and tremble. God smoothed the beyond ruffled feathers and cooed proudly, "You did well, my son. You have accomplished what you're brothers cannot. Acceptance of a species far greater than our own, not through power but love. This is why I bring you back, Gabriel. Teach them how to forgive, to love as strongly as they fight, and one day I will come back. This, I promise. Go, Gabriel. Michael and Raphael greatly mourn you're passing. Lighten their burden. They will care for you until you are well again."

Swallowing, Gabriel nodded stiffly and quickly pulled away. There was an instant absence of warmth as his grace began flowing out of his vessel again. Stifling a scream, he clutched at the wound responsible for it and fell to the ground. Now on his knees, Gabriel curled into a ball and considered the possibility of suicide by pissing off Raphael. It wasn't that bad an idea, if you think about it. With his power as weak as it was, the older archangel might think of him as a foot soldier. With one last stroke of his wings and the words, "Hush, young one. Michael is coming," God disappeared and Gabriel fell head-on into the awaiting blackness.

The song of metal flowed through the air as the angels of the legion trained. Silvery-blue blood mixed with grace lightly coated the arena, this some still leaking from the wounds of the fighters. Michael watched coldly as they tore themselves apart at his command. He had lost too much in this new war to let it be lost by sloppy footwork. His little brother, the baby Archangel and heart of the flock, was dead. Gone for good, this time. Of course, he and Raphael had known he wasn't dead two thousand years ago when Gabriel first hid. After all, the most powerful angels in heaven were also some of the first. But…it was different this time.

Shuddering heavily, he replayed again and again the horror he'd felt as the wave of grace brought many angels to their knees. Michael had seen his little brother's last moments, as well as the pure love he still felt for his fallen brother. This is what had torn his soul apart. His and Raphael's. For all his complaining, the healer loved his family more than anything in the world. He had slowly been going insane since Lucifer fell, then snapped when Gabriel left them. Michael was afraid this would be the breaking point for both of them, as he himself could no longer bring himself to care about his hurt soldiers.

Breaking from his reverie, the Archangel blinked and held up a hand. Immediately, the panting young soldiers stepped back without a sound. Staring straight at their commander, the entire Legion was silently waiting for orders. But he had none. Feeling something on the brink of his awareness, Michael pulled it forward hurriedly and felt his soul turn cold. He felt…Gabriel. Eyes wide, he pulled the bond closer and felt the crushing pain and loneliness as if it were his own. Letting out a choked breath, he nearly fell but was caught by a pair of strong, familiar arms. A hand stroked his wings soothingly, but he paid it no attention. Right now, he was focused on Gabriel.

Michael could feel even now as the Grace in his lost brother's soul continued to desert him. Rising quickly, he opened his beautiful wings and tore himself away from the angel comforting him. Glancing back, he was surprised to see Raphael with heart breaking worry clouding his eyes. Before the healer could say anything, Michael barked, "Fly with me!"

Never before had he spoken to his brothers in such a way, but there was no time to apologize. Getting off the ground, they sped towards the outward boundaries of heaven, where human souls rest in eternal peace. Just before they hit the barrier, Michael spotted a broken figure laying still in the clouds. Sobbing on a breath, he instantly dove straight down and scooped the angel into his arms. Raphael flew closer and moaned in relief. Gabriel was alive, barely giving off enough grace to fill a juice box, but not dead. Cradling the messenger to his chest, Michael couldn't help but notice how dull, weak and unruly the feathers were. Crooning softly to his hurt brother, they broke the speed record and were almost immediately surrounded by the Legion. Most were all incredibly young. Some had never even met Gabriel, the trainer and secret favorite of all the cherubs in heaven. Others had met the messenger, and were understandably alarmed by his appearance.

Not-so-subtly ignoring them, he and Raphael quickly enlisted the help of a few older angels and flew the rest of the way to the Pantheon. Laying the youngest Archangel on the stone table was the hardest thing Michael had ever had to do since casting out Lucifer. Quickly standing at his head, the most feared angel in heaven broke down and cried, stroking the long brown hair that was even duller than the triple wings. Murmuring under his breath, Raphael got to work before many of the helpers had time to blink. It was truly astonishing to some, for since Lucifer's fall from grace the healer had never stepped foot into the Pantheon or healed a single patient. To do this all for a seemingly hopeless cause was unheard of, especially in heaven right now.

However, the Legion was wise enough not to utter a word against it. After seeing the emotions, the raw, near physical pain in their commander's eyes, many were scared stiff. Big though it was, the Pantheon was nearly empty, what with all the angels spreading word of Gabriel's return. _"Call us a legion, for we are many. Fearless are we, said the Archangel Michael,_ a near silent voice in his mind uttered. Full of pain and fatigue though it was, the tone was nearly as commanding as his own yet so gentle. Hurriedly looking down, he saw his brothers croak the next words through tight grimace. "Overstatement of the century. What the hell have you been up to, Mikey? Those guys ran like hellhounds were set on their collective asses."

Weak. The voice was much too weak for his liking. Lightly slapping his cheek, Michael whispered, "Shut up, little one. Save you're strength." Pausing for a second, he added, "And stop calling me Mikey."

Smiling warmly, he chuckled then moaned as it turned into a harsh cough. Now gasping for air, Gabriel choked and hacked up dull silver blood. Scooping him up yet again, Michael laid his brother across his chest and tucked the head of light brown hair under his chin. Running fingers through it, he inadvertently discovered an exit wound around halfway through the long locks. Brushing it lightly with the tip of a finger, a whimper forced him to give up and softly murmur comforting words to his brother. Raphael caught the look he flashed, and moved over to inspect where Gabriel's own sword had nearly ended his life.

Grace glimmered on the palms of his hands as the healer cupped the wound between them. Gabriel's back arched and an inhuman wail made heaven tremble and the sky blacken. Thunder now rumbling in the distance, the pale archangel gripped Michael's hand with a strength they didn't think he could possess and hissed, "Cas. F-find Castiel. Tell him to bring the knuckleheads." Nodding and smoothing the disarrayed caramel hair, he closed his eyes and commanded the angel to come. The order rumbled through heaven with all the potency of a hurricane, searching for the single angel the owner of the voice had summoned.

This done, Michael sat on the cold stone beneath the baby of the Archangels and turned it into a bed. _Probably should have done that first,_ he thought with a hint of guilt. He had closed off his mind, so he didn't think anyone would reply.

Biting back a laugh, Michael kissed his brothers forehead when the kid sleepily whispered to his mind, _You think?_

**Castiel, Sam, Dean and Bobby will be introduced next chapter. Who likes affectionate Mikey and Raph? REVIEW!**


	2. Houston, we have a Problem

'**squeals' This is the most attention one of my stories has ever gotten! I'm relatively new to the site, so I haven't quite been able to thank reviewers. Also, I assure you my grammar will get better. Both my sister and I do the 'your' thing often. Castiel will also get hurt in this story, so big brother Gabe to the rescue! And the other way around.**

**Disclaimer: Borrowing, not owning. I'll give them back…when I'm done with them.**

Chapter two: Houston, We Have A Problem

Sighing heavily, Castiel, angel of Thursday and servant of the lord, looked up longingly at the stars. At heaven, a place now forbidden to him in every sense of the word. The other angels' voices, usually a constant buzz in his head, had been muted to nearly nothing. He was practically human, worthless to the Winchesters who had survived so much on so little. Yet he couldn't help them when they needed it most. Lucifer had come for Sam, but it was Gabriel, the archangel everyone thought a coward, who stepped in to save them. A piece of bitter irony, since not long ago he'd been repeatedly killing Dean, but died to save him.

Absently taking a nibble of the Hershey's Bar he'd forced Dean to buy at the nearest gas station, he closed his eyes and tried to remember a time when his big brother hadn't been smiling. Castiel, of course, couldn't. From beginning to end, Gabriel had been the most cheerful angel in heaven. But now that he tried _really _hard, he could recall seeing a glint of…sorrow? Defeat, even, in the messenger's eyes. Oh, how well he had hid the truth from those who cared for him. He shouldn't have.

Anna had once told him that Gabriel belonged neither to the past, present or the future. In essence, he just was. She'd said when he was just a cherub, he would stare at the stars with this faraway expression for hours and hours. He had no caretaker, but didn't seem to need or want one. Gabriel was fine with being alone, but with company, he absolutely thrived. Michael had taken him then, awed by the fledgling's seeming gift of foresight. As Castiel had learned, however, Gabriel didn't have foresight. He was a manipulator, a time traveler.

In other words, he was cursed.

Every time Gabriel left heaven to go to another time, staying away from Castiel, the fledgling he was training, for weeks at a time, it became harder and harder for him to smile. Finally, the archangel broke. He fled from heaven, leaving Anna to train him instead. How Castiel had hated him for making him wait for two thousand years to see him again. And now he was dead. The only angel in the entire legion to talk and train the young ones, left to rot in a hotel. Michael was too rough, Lucifer too strange and Raphael too busy, but Gabriel had just laughed endlessly and told the cherubs how soft-hearted their brothers were.

This, _this _whole thing, was because he failed as a guardian to the two people who needed him the most. Bowing his head, Castiel felt something trickle down his cheek. Lifting a finger, he wiped away what Dean called a 'tear', and watched in fascination as it slowly dripped to the ground. No matter how many times it happened, he would never truly understand how such a small thing could portray such deep feelings. Staring at the spot it had landed, Castiel could see just why humans deserved to live. Such emotions, bonds, that ran as deep as any chasm, thinning but never completely breaking. Humans could forget the wrongs done to them, and forgive, maybe even love. All these things that angels couldn't.

Or wouldn't. Not after The Fall.

Poor Gabriel. The brother everyone knew he could never hurt had ultimately forsaken him, killing him with the very blade he carried. Everything he had done, from the fall up until that time just four days, six hours, twenty two minutes and forty six…forty seven seconds ago. Not that he was counting. Dean said it was an act of anxiety, when you count the time. Castiel honestly couldn't see it. Throwing the chocolate down, he sobbed raggedly and thought about everything he could have prevented if he was just _there._

_If I had been there…_

_**Then what would you have done? Faced Lucifer yourself? Gabriel would have you in a pocket dimension in a heartbeat,**_ whispered a tiny voice in the back of his head. For once, it was his own. Frowning, he remembered a human disease. Schizophrenia, was it? Yes, that's what it's called. Schizophrenia. Hearing footsteps behind him, he turned to find a determined looking Sam walking up to where he sat on the Impala's hood. Without a sound thought, he blurted out, "Sam, do I have schizophrenia?"

Stopping, the younger Winchester blinked for a second, stunned into silence by the completely random question. He'd come to talk about what happened to Gabriel, but apparently Cas had other things on his mind. Like voices. "I'm pretty sure you're not schizo, Cas. Although it wouldn't be the weirdest thing that's happened this week." Stopping for a second, he suppressed a sigh as he remembered the damn Herpexia commercial. Swallowing, he continued. "Probably your conscience. Listen to it. It's either right or trying to make you feel guilty. If it helps, you aren't the only person that has one, so don't start telling people about the whole 'I'm mentally unstable' thing. Better yet, don't pull a Dean and bottle everything up 'till you explode. What's up with you, Cas?"

There was a few moments of silence as Castiel slowly gathered the words to speak. "Gabriel-"

Before he could even get past the first of his carefully constructed words, a great screech forced Sam to his knees. Although, what sounded to Sam like the world's worst nails-on-a-chalkboard was one of the sweetest sounds known in heaven. Listening carefully, Castiel's eyes went wide in horror when the command became clear. _**Bring the Winchesters to heaven immediately, soldier. That is an order!**_ Michael's voice roared repeatedly in his mind. Now clutching his head fiercely against the commander's summons, Castiel could feel hands on his shoulders trying to pull him back. Whimpering against the call, he strained to cut himself away but couldn't. After all, Michael had more grace in his pinky toe than he did in his entire body, even bound to heaven. It was never going to be that easy, or he and many more soldiers would have left long ago.

Gritting his teeth, Castiel hissed to the brothers, "Holy oil. S-stay away!"

Sam quickly realized the problem and ran to get the angel trapping supplies. Dean, on the other hand, stayed, yelling, "What the hell are you saying?" Finally, at the look on Castiel's face, he snarled, "Fucking angels!" and broke his semi-empty beer bottle against a tree.

In mere moments, the angel of Thursday was surrounded by protective sigils of lit holy oil. Mesmerized by the blue flames surrounding him, he absently wondered if this is what Gabriel had felt like when he'd been trapped. Fidgety, with a huge helping of fear. Thoughts such as these were treacherous in their own right, never mind the archangel's powerful voice whispering words of promise to him. While the pain had dulled to nothing, Michael's command had sparked a longing in his very soul. Castiel wanted to go home, play with the cherubs and even fight, if it pleased the commander. Thoughts that were no longer welcome during his new life on earth.

A caress of power wrapped around him like a blanket, the grace of a Legion waiting for his return. They were all brothers, all equals in heaven. Blinking hard, Castiel whimpered but stood firm. Never would he bring the Winchesters to his former haven like lambs to a slaughter, no matter what his heart spoke of. Cerulean blue eyes slid shut as their owner tried and failed to banish the summons for his new brothers, human though they were. Castiel couldn't see anymore why Lucifer would want to destroy these creatures, because even though they weren't as beautiful or as graceful as the morning star they were kind and compassionate. Beautiful in their own right.

Who would want to destroy that?

Lucifer had made a mistake and now, millennia later, two humans were trapped dead-center in the ultimate showdown. Michael only wanted what was denied him, no longer caring about the ones he'd sworn an oath to protect. Anything to get at the brother he'd scorned. Millions of lives were at stake, but to his brothers it was a game to be won and nothing more. Shivering in a sudden cold wind, Castiel could feel rain washing his skin clean. Then suddenly, his eyes flew open. Hadn't Dean carried him inside? And if so, why was he getting wet? Bobby looked up and simply muttered, "Well, shit. We're screwed."

Following the man's gaze, Castiel found that they were, indeed, 'screwed'. Above the sigils, a rainstorm had seemingly appeared out of nowhere and was soaking the flame to nothing. Startled, his eyes widened as he remembered the most powerful water elemental in heaven. _Gabriel. _It all traced back to him, yet Castiel knew the archangel was dead. The emotions and grace had made too powerful a blast for him not to be. Dismissing the idea immediately, the now-fallen angel took in the nearly decimated wards and wailed in despair. The last of his will was gone, eaten away by the grace of the Legion.

Reaching out, Castiel touched the brothers arms and dragged them to heaven on broken wings. The last thought he had before Bobby Singer's house was just a speck was, _Why didn't he do it sooner? Why didn't Michael summon me?_

In Heaven

Michael was not having a good time.

It wasn't news to anybody that the eldest archangel had a horrendous temper in situations where things didn't go his way, but it went beyond that. _This _situation was just…ridiculous! A few hours ago, Gabriel had started running a fever. As per usual, he stayed quiet until he burned through the bed, which in of itself was unusual since he had the element of water. Michael had checked the wounds, and as soon as he saw them he'd had to sprint around looking for Raphael to explain just why it was turning black. Then, and only then, had he learned of the poison Gabriel had used on the blade. Noxious venom from a hell creature better left unknown had been running through his heart for the past few days, and he only mentions it now?

On the outside, he was absolutely fuming, but on the inside he was as frantic as Raphael with his carefully groomed wings. Gabriel was currently retching, an unfortunate side effect to having his grace ripped out then being likewise torn from the human in which he had been residing. All of this made keeping the angel comfortable an extremely daunting task. Michael was situated next to his little brother, stroking the wings he had yet to straighten. A flurry of dead feathers fell with each stroke of his hand.

Michael sighed and hugged Gabriel to his chest as the angel's stomach contents were finally gone. Grabbing a wayward bandage from a nearby shelf, he used it to gently wipe the messenger's face free of sweat and…other, unfortunate bodily fluids. Lighting it on fire, he absently set flame to the feathers that worried him even more than the poison. Still stroking the nearly grey white and gold feathers, Michael let his grace flood to Gabriel in a silent show of love. In return, the feverish forehead was buried into the crook of his neck, accompanied by an adorably moody whine. Chuckling lowly, the commander stood with his little brother and got the first good look at him that he'd had in years.

The normally glowing waist length caramel hair was a dull, muted brown. Amber eyes that used to glow with mischief were glazed with pain and fever, making the whole thing much bleaker to Michael. The laughter instantly died on his tongue when he realized just how thin his baby brother was. Gabriel hadn't used his grace while on earth, just the Pagan God Loki's natural talents. The result was a gradual buildup of power that had ultimately left him starving, after leaving the meat-suit. It didn't help much that Gabriel had stopped his aging in the form of a seventeen year old boy. Crooning softly, Michael wrapped all six wings of glowing white around the figure held in his arms. Gently, he rocked the young archangel until his breathing evened out in the calmness of sleep. Feeling a weak burst of grace, he turned towards the outskirts of heaven and smiled smugly.

So Castiel had returned.

Michael had known the order would find the fallen angel with the Winchesters, but as badly as he needed a meat-suit, he wouldn't force himself upon the human. When Gabriel became involved, on the other hand, it was a different matter entirely. Angels don't get sick, and since angels don't get sick, he and Raphael had no idea how to lower their brother's body temperature to normal. The healer had tried using his grace and the result was less than pretty, considering the fact there was demon venom infecting Gabriel's very soul, it had been a very bad idea. If they had known beforehand, they wouldn't even have tried it. The human loving angel, or more specifically, his charges, were a last resort to healing the young archangel. _The young, __**stupid **__archangel, _thought Michael despairingly.

The very thought of leaving Gabriel alone, even when it was safe, frightened him. Would his brother wake up in worse condition? Would he be alive at all? Taking a deep breath, he settled a hand on Gabriel's head and whispered softly in Enochian, "_Call if you need me, little one. I won't be far,"_ then went to check quickly on the Legion. Raphael could handle the angel of Thursday easily, hopefully non-violently.

Heaven's outskirts; Near Lucifer's chasm

Castiel opened his tightly shut eyes and whispered repeated apologies to the Winchesters. The brothers just stared at him in open mouth awe. Looking down, he realize Jimmy was still on earth. Castiel was in his true form, dressed in the dark, dreary clothing of a fallen angel. Wrapping his wings around himself, he stared at them with clear blue eyes that dared them to say anything about their current situation, begged them to please forgive him for not being able to resist Michael's command. It was an almost physical pain that made it nigh on impossible to detect the exact moment when their hunter found them.

"Hmm, what do we have here?," Raphael drawled sarcastically. Long black hair flowing down his back, he drew a long sword out of thin air and purred, "Been a while, hasn't it _brother?_" he spat the last word like it was poison, making Castiel flinch. Sam and Dean stepped closer to his side.

"Raphael. I trust you are well, after our last…_encounter," _Castiel stated emotionlessly and watched the archangel fume. In hindsight, it was probably one of the worst ideas he'd ever had aside from carving the banishing rune into his own chest. Infuriating one of the most powerful angels in heaven was a definite no-no in anyone's book. But since Castiel had just been forced to fly to the one place other than hell he wasn't welcome in, it didn't put him in a very good mood. Biting his lip hard, the angel of Thursday waited as his older and stronger brother charged straight at him with the very dangerous looking sword.

Castiel closed his eyes and prayed. Fervently.

Pantheon

Gabriel's eyes snapped open with an audible _click!_ when his favorite little brother's prayers reached his tired mind. Gasping weakly, he forced himself to stand, which was much harder than it should have been. Feeling extremely dizzy, the archangel found himself hard pressed just to stay standing. "Shit, fuck, shit, shit,_ SHIT!" _he howled as he walked slowly away from the soft bed Michael had poofed into a moan of agony, Gabriel grabbed one of the new angel blades from the wall of the Pantheon and spread his wings, choking on the pain it caused him. The hole going through his chest was leaking dull grey-silver blood as he took off from the clouds and flew as fast as he could, which was actually incredibly fast because of the panic and the oh-I-have-six-wings factor.

So it was with either incredibly bad or incredibly good timing that he made it there when Raphael was just a few feet away from impaling Castiel like a shish kabob. Meeting the blade with his own, Gabriel ignored his pain and growled a hoarse, "No."

**Well. That was…okay. Could have been better, could have had more Winchesters, but REVIEW anyways! Or Castiel dies!**


	3. Divided we Fall

**Hey, dear readers! Just going to tell you, this story will follow most of the episodes after 'Hammer of the Gods' except for the minor fact that Gabriel will be there. And a few other very important details, but still…**

**Disclaimer: I only own the protective Raphael and Michael. The assholes are all borrowed.**

Chapter Three: Divided we Fall

_So it was with either incredibly bad or incredibly good timing that he made it there when Raphael was just a few feet away from impaling Castiel like a shish kabob. Meeting the blade with his own, Gabriel ignored his pain and growled a hoarse, "No."_

It was obviously too late for Raphael to stop in time, but he tried. Really, he did. The look on his face also would have stopped Attila the Hun in his tracks and set him instantly on fire, but he tried. At least he dropped the sword before crashing into him. Gabriel was sent flying several feet back only to slam against a tree. Once again, through the pent up scream he was about to let out, he wondered just what was it about the Winchesters that made people want to die for them. Castiel and even their own father sacrificed themselves to save just two seemingly insignificant lives bound for hell. Finally catching his breath, Gabriel let himself think, _Big brother Mikey to the rescue! _before letting out the loudest scream of his life.

Truthfully, it wasn't faked. He had just been too winded to get a sound out, and now that he could it was absolutely amazing just how much sound could get out of one person's(or angel's)mouth under the right circumstances. As soon as Gabriel let out the scream, he found it was impossible to stop. The pain beat through the adrenaline racing through his metaphorical veins as soon as he'd hit, and now he was feeling what he had done to himself fully for the first time. None of Father's grace to act as Vicodin, or hell, even Tylenol!

Blinding agony raced through him and tears of light streaked his sharp cheeks. The screams died to choking sobs as more of his dull silver blood gushed from the blackened wounds. Raphael, after a seconds hesitation for glancing at the Winchesters, flew the short distance to his side. Before the healer could even touch him, a blur raced into him and threw him aside. Coughing now, Gabriel meekly shifted his gaze to Michael and whimpered. Just as quickly as Raphael had been thrown off, he was lifted gently into his brother's arms. Muffling his cries into the broad shoulder, he internally thanked their father for making him the youngest. Yes, it felt good to be babied again, and yes it was amazing to actually be able to look at each other without thinking of you-know-who's betrayal.

Pain finally easing, Gabriel let himself go limp in his big brother's protective hold. In response, Michael let a wing ruffle soothingly across his cheek. Sighing contentedly, he turned his head slightly to look at the Winchesters, who, to his amusement, where leaning almost entirely bent over to look through the clear hole in his back. Sam realized he was being watched, and quickly snapped back into a standing position, looking almost sheepish. Dean, ever the oblivious one, stayed staring until his brother elbowed him sharply in the ribs. Smiling wryly, he thought, _Oh, goody! It's time for the Winchester's show! I swear, they are the only two people on that planet with more family issues than heaven. It's actually quite refreshing._

Now grinning broadly at the boys' obvious lack of recognition, he absently snuggled a little closer to Michael as a chill swept over him. Mumbling slightly, Gabriel peeked at Raphael to see him hovering a good fifty feet away. The pain now manageable with the extra grace cascading through him from Michael, the messenger gave his older brother a tiny smile that caused him to take a step forwards.

Almost instantly, he was stopped by Michael's patented, 'I-am-pissed-at-you-right-now-so take-one-step-closer-and-I'll-tear-off-your-wings-and-beat-you-with-them' bitchface. It was incredibly amusing how alike his brothers and the Winchesters were, attitude wise. Gabriel didn't have a doubt in his mind that Dean would keep saying no until he was blue in the face. From the looks of it, both of John's boys had a ton of Michael in them, though Sam had more of Lucifer's qualities. Not all of them bad, surprisingly. Tuning in, he caught the middle third of big brother's lecture. Stifling a sigh, he muttered hoarsely, "Here we go again…"

Yup. It was just like he'd left it

Settling in for a long wait, he heard, "…remember what your orders were, brother? Did the words 'run young Castiel straight through with a blade' make themselves known in the command I gave you? No! For Father's sakes, it's just like Gabriel as a fledgling." Mildly insulted, he opened his mouth to give a swift retort but was quickly silenced by the feathers shoved in his face. Michael continued, "It's bad enough that you disobeyed me, but to further pain our brother while he is clearly in enough agony is inexcusable. Not to mention you tried killing my vessel!" he snapped when Raphael tried and failed to get a word in edgewise. Sighing, Gabriel hastily summoned a board game and extracted himself from the Commander's tightening grip. In fact, the lecturing archangel didn't even glance at him when he gestured for Castiel and the Winchesters to follow him.

Not waiting to see if they followed his request, Gabriel stood and limped slowly towards the empty Pantheon when he felt a hand grasp his shoulder. Turning painfully to see who had touched him, he was surprised to see Castiel looking at him in both awe and horror. Before the younger angel could be stopped, arms were thrown around him in a tight squeeze that normally would have left anyone gasping for air. However, with a hole straight through his chest it felt like someone had just dropped a very large, very heavy stalactite through his heart. Not that it had happened before, of course. Who was stupid enough to walk under a falling knife-like rock? "Alright, Cassie, you can let go anytime now," he whispered hoarsely.

As soon as his former fledgling had removed his arms from around Gabriel's torso, the archangel promptly fell to the ground and retched. Moments later, a moaning Gabriel croaked, "Fucking Winchesters with their bloody self-sacrifice motto…Martyr was never on my 'what-do-you-want-to-be-when-you-grow-up' list, you know." After a brief and extremely awkward pause, he asked brightly, "Hey, does anyone wanna play Parcheesi?"

Castiel

Mouth open in a disbelieving and quite unattractive gawk, Castiel looked from the slightly stunned Winchesters to his sweaty, pale, malnourished former guardian with a huge grin fitted to a sharp face and face-palmed. Sighing softly, he murmured, "No, Gabriel. We do not want to play…par cheese. You are clearly unwell, brother, and that is what we must see to first. Are you capable of walking?"

Before he could say anything in response, Dean cut him off. "How the hell are you alive right now? We heard you scream, you son of a bitch! Do you have any idea ho-"

Gabriel had snapped his fingers and turned the eldest Winchester into a brick wall. Sighing again, Castiel gazed sternly at his older brother and said, "Change him back, Gabriel. He will be quiet from now on."

Smiling impishly, the archangel murmured, "But it's the same thing! After all, your boys are as stubborn as a brick wall, so why not turn them into one?" By this time, he was eyeing the nervously gulping Sam with a wide-eyed innocence made oh-so-much scarier by the wicked glint of mischief in the amber depths. Finally giving in to Castiel, he snapped and a speechless looking Winchester appeared. Blinking for a second, he took a step forward and glared at the resurrected angel.

A ruffle of feathers was all that alerted all present to Michael as he stepped closer to Gabriel. Walking gracefully, he scooped him up and asked disapprovingly, "What have you been doing, little one? Your fever is getting worse." Even as the archangel said this, Castiel was moving forward to place a slender hand on the warm skin. Concerned beyond what was healthy, he looked with pleading eyes at the brothers Winchester and murmured, "Please?"

Face noticeably twitching in the effort it took to resist the puppy eyes Castiel was subtly pulling off, Dean turned and simply started walking away. Sam, ever the compassionate one, took one long look at the three of them and followed his brother. The silence was broken by Gabriel drawling in a whispery voice, "Well, that went exactly how I thought it would. Anyone up for a game of Parcheesi? Scrabble? Shit, even Hungry, Hungry Hippo? I'm bored, Mikey!"

The eldest archangel looked so close to banging his head against the golden gates of heaven, that Castiel couldn't help but take pity on him. Sighing, he quickly located the brothers and landed at their sides just in time to hear the active arguing going on. Sam appeared to be on the losing end, trying to defend Gabriel using what little good he had done on earth as a way of saying, "Dean, he tried!"

"Tried to what, Sam? Put you in a mental institute after making you clinically insane? Fuck, no! Sammy, I mourned the guy because we thought he'd sacrificed himself to save us, not because he pulled off some goddamned trick to make it sound like he was being ripped apart by hellhounds. Gabriel might have done that for us, but he also hurt Cas! Not to mention that fricken' Herpexia commercial…okay, never mind. That was awesome. But he's still a monster, Sam! We _kill _monsters, not help them!"

Those words pierced Castiel right through to the core. Swallowing, he walked forward and murmured, "You should have met him before Lucifer fell. Before he was forced to kill brothers that he loved, brothers that he'd trained himself how to hold that sword. My brother was called Gabriel the Golden because he had so much light in him, strength that put even Lucifer to shame. He was my guardian and he taught me how to fly. Know before you speak, Dean."

"But Cas-"

"No, Dean. Gabriel has a reason for doing this. He always does."

Suddenly, with barely a ruffle of feathers, a sweaty and pale Gabriel slurred, "'Course ah, d-do, Cassie! I'll even…sh-ow yu."

A barely registered yell from an angry Michael was all they heard before the obviously feverish Gabriel grabbed their arms and took them down memory lane. At least Castiel hoped it was memory lane and not the future, because although the archangel had stated he was on their side, not Lucifer's or Michael's, he always did have a strange sense of humor. Not to mention a trip to the future might just kill his brother and former guardian.

Time Warp

Seconds later, Castiel landed thankfully feet-first on a red cloud. His brother had sometimes taken him on these trips if there wasn't anything important to do, so he had gotten used to the disorientation. The Winchesters, not so much. Sam landed face-first inches away from the hilt of an angel blade sticking out of the bloodied cloud. Not long after, Dean fell on top of him and forced a wheezing sound out of his silently moaning brother. Gabriel landed cat-like on his feet with a drunken giggle, until he spotted the carnage. Then, nearly flat on his face from the now blood-covered injury and misuse of what little grace he had left, he quietly sat and whispered, "Watch."

A battle was taking place in midair, forces of angels striking against each other with fists, swords and in a couple of cases, scimitars. Ferocious screams echoed through the stagnant air as angel fought and died by their brethren's hands. High above the battle, two pillars of light shone as Michael and Lucifer fought with no apparent winner. Dean gawked slightly as they made out the form of a teary eyed fourteen year old angel glowing a dim gold as he cut through fighter after fighter, golden glow getting ever dimmer. It was clearly Gabriel, dressed as he was in swirl-coated armor and fighting with two curved blades. The youngest archangel whispered apologies whenever silver-blue blood coated his body anew.

Turning to look at the silent figures of the brothers he protects, Castiel allowed a single tear to roll down his cheek. The Fall had been scarring, both mentally and physically. Especially for the archangels, who were bound together as eternal brothers to feel and think what the others were. Even as they watched, a seraphim much older than Gabriel stabbed him in the side. Not making a sound, one of the blades careened abruptly to the side to part the elder angel's head from the body. No light flashed as the angel simply sank through the clouds, a shame to heaven and those who fought to protect it. Gabriel himself sank to his knees, unable to take it anymore. Loosing a bundle from his robe, the archangel, strength of God, unwrapped his horn and played a haunting, angry melody.

Instantly, heaven began to change. It's shape wavered and shook until a chasm formed, black as death and as foreboding as the night. Castiel now understood the power behind the seemingly simple instrument that Gabriel had often played for him in moments of sadness. His guardian had created Lucifer's Chasm. Watching closer, the heavily bleeding messenger blew the horn again. Sigils surrounded him, flying in a downward spiral through the hell-bound crack in the clouds. At last, with one final note, the Legion cast their weeping brothers into the pit with merciless gazes. Michael finally threw Lucifer to the ground, both covered in blood and gore as the eldest angrily tore fistfuls of feathers from speckled white wings. Gabriel wailed and flung himself at Michael, dropping the horn like it was but a stone in the water.

Lucifer pleaded with his youngest brother, saying in his still beautiful voice that it had been _all for them, _that father had made a mistake when he created the vain and ugly creatures inhabiting the beautiful planet called Earth. Gabriel simply cried and, when he lost his hold on Michael, flung Lucifer into the pit himself. The screams and promises when the Morning Star fell were no longer beautiful, but thick with venom and hate that only served to cover up the fear and loneliness he felt as all bonds between the archangels and the new Mourning Star disappeared. Gabriel's streaming tears of light didn't seem to bring ant emotion to the furious Michael, who fell upon him with a scream of rage. The messenger took it all, blow after blow until he was on the ground. When the beating slowed, Michael's arms slipped around his youngest brother as tears flooded his dark eyes anew.

The youngest was now the oldest as Gabriel comforted his strong brother, though he was weak from blood loss and grief. Snuggling closer to Michael, Castiel's guardian closed his eyes and whimpered, not at the pain, but from the flinch that ran through his brother at the simple touch. Then the scene was over, replaced by a boiling volcano where Gabriel, now with Loki as a vessel, threw his golden horn over the side and used the element of water to clear a path for it straight to the bottom of the lava pit. Forming a protective layer of hard, un-melting rock, the messenger turned away and never looked back.

Again, the scene shifted but before it could form a place Michael's voice called out, "Enough, brother! You will kill yourself with all this traveling. Come with me, Gabriel."

Castiel turned sharply to see the messenger half dead and covered in blood. Hesitantly picking him up, he led the stunned Winchesters to a large area of grace. Michael himself couldn't time travel, but he could project himself through Gabriel. Softly, he whispered, "Bring us back, brother."

With the barest nod of his pale, feverish head, Gabriel the Golden, broken archangel and former strength of the Lord surrounded them with his shaking wings and sent them to be dealt with by Michael. Castiel absently summoned a Kit-Kat bar and unwrapped it for his brother. Eyes lit up happily, Gabriel snatched it and they, to, went to be lectured by an extremely pissy archangel.

God help them.

**Poor Gabriel! He is, in fact, called Gabriel of the Golden Hair, but since he's not female as the Catholics show him, I called him Gabriel the golden. Also, Michael wanted to kill Lucifer but Gabriel wouldn't let him, instead casting him into hell and making the cage for when the apocalypse he knew to be coming finally took place. Alright, that's enough clarifying. Have a good weekend, dear readers! **


	4. Emotions and What They Mean

**Well, you asked for a new chapter soon and I got bored. Extremely bored. So here's chapter four. Also, thanks to Noni for helping pick up the faults in the story. It's not rude if it's true and it doesn't matter if it took five minutes to read the review. Don't worry, I have English next semester!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, we wouldn't be waiting to see what happens to Bobby.**

Chapter Four: Emotions and What They Mean

As it turns out, praying to Father? Didn't work. Michael still went blue in the face as he shouted at both his brothers and the Winchesters for taking 'foolish risks'. It wasn't very convincing or threatening because Gabriel, making sad eyes and whimpering, managed to get him off track about every three seconds. The trickery had it's drawbacks, though. Yes, he stopped his lecture…then started at the beginning. Repeatedly. Finally, after at least thirty retellings of what could have happened, Gabriel rolled his eyes and slowly scooted away. Very, _very _slowly and very, _very _painfully. As inch by inch he got farther away from his anal brother, the mischievous archangel wondered why he hadn't been caught yet.

Glancing back didn't work well since he had just gone through a rise in the clouds. Which, he discovered as he crawled through them, were storm clouds building from Michael's rage. Woe to him, now not only was he in pain and desperately trying to ignore it, Gabriel was actually _being_ ignored_._ Not that it wouldn't have been the first or last time this spectacle had happened, it was just that he was hoping to have more time with his brothers before they became archangels again. Knowing it would happen and actually living it were two entirely different things and as he thought this, Gabriel found himself overlooking Earth in all her polluted splendor.

Remembering ye olden days would only make things worse and not for the first time did Gabriel find himself wishing for brothers like Sam and Dean. They were alike to Mikey and Luci, but so extremely different…funny thing is, he had seen them two thousand years ago and he still envied them, Hell and all. Because they had each other, unlike the _perfect, __**obedient**_archangels that God had created. If things were different here, more like Earth, then maybe Lucifer wouldn't be wearing a rotting meat suit and chasing after his true one. Freewill. Maybe it was worth something after all.

Shaking off his depressing thoughts, Gabriel sighed longingly before forcing himself to stand. Raphael and Michael didn't seem to care anymore, so what was one more lookie-loo before fading into dust? After all, there were no more messages to send between planes of mortal existence so what was the point of having a messenger? There wasn't one. Eyes flickering shut, he focused on the raw power down near the core of his grace and forced it into being. All around him, heaven glowed with brilliance as Gabriel the Golden made a choice. One that would ultimately destroy him.

_Amber and gold eyes flared open to stare in horrified awe at the devastation that he used to call home. In the distance, human children called for their mothers while fledgling fell in pieces from the sky. Michael was chained in hell, screaming in rage and pain while Lucifer took revenge on their Father's new favorite children. The biggest temper tantrum of all time had turned both heaven and earth to war zones. A sanctuary…gone in the blink of an angel's eye. Yet there were still people fighting against the bad as though there was a chance for light to prevail._

_Predictably, Dean Winchester and Castiel led the fruitless rebellion against…Sam. So he had given in, after all? The youngest Winchester had said yes to Lucifer and Michael could no longer hear his vessel's pleas as he was tortured by two of the four horsemen. __**So this is what it will be like if they break, **__thought Gabriel. Numb to the terror of it all, he walked the broken streets as the resistance fell almost immediately with the strength of a new Legion born of suffering. __**This is what the Winchesters are trying to prevent and what my brothers are hurrying along. **__Gabriel knew he should be disgusted with what heaven had become but couldn't bring himself to feel._

_With a sudden thought racing through his head, Gabriel added something to this future. Something unexpected and unplanned in Atropos' scheduled planner. Himself. Closing his eyes, the scene changed entirely. Humans still fought against the things that went bump in the night, though it was harder than ever before they were not overcome. Heaven, beautiful serenity that it was, hadn't changed much from the first future. Still as war-torn and bloody as ever. Michael and Lucifer battled it out in the cage he had formed for them millennia ago in that last fight between siblings. But Earth…it was still beautiful. Sighing, Gabriel gave in to the inevitable and opened his eyes._

So. Now he knew why the stubborn brothers were still fighting. It was for a future, not just theirs but for the entire existence of life everywhere. Gabriel didn't notice when his knees hit the clouds, still roiling with thunder and holy rage. He was too busy smiling and planning for pain to grab hold. After all, he would be a hero. What's wrong with that?

Michael's still going….

"-does anyone here have even a brain cell between them? You have no idea how dangerous it was going with Gabriel on a time trip when he's that exhausted! Not just for you, but for him, too! Castiel, you should know better by now than to listen to Gabe when he gets an idea in that thick head of his. He raised you, for Father's sakes! You should be able to tell when something has gone wrong so why did you go through with it? Never mind, Gabriel raised you. Even if you boys knew how painfully you could have died in whatever memory that beloved, glorified idiot I call my brother showed you, it's entirely conceivable that you would go on your own accord. Now, as I was saying in the first place-"

It went like that for quite a while. Castiel, way too used to it for his few years as an angel, had learned to just look, listen and blink with a few ashamed head nodding in between. This had gotten him far in life and didn't seem to let him down now. Sam and Dean were currently either half dead or half asleep. It was still hard to tell the difference, really. Either way, whenever Michael looked at them this vein in the side of his neck would protrude ever do slightly as his face turned an odd color of blue. Castiel couldn't help but wonder if there was something blocking his grace. Catching an angry gleam in Michael's eyes, he quickly nodded along.

From what he'd seen of Alistair's torture, he could honestly say this was worse. Not only was there disappointment in Michael's smooth bass voice, there was also pain in that he knew he could have lost Gabriel yet again. Nodding again, Castiel wondered just how Heaven had gotten on without the messenger's laughter ringing through the clouds or the sweets he happily shoved down the fledglings' mouths. The joy that was Gabriel had been missing for so long that many couldn't or didn't want to remember the times that golden light shone.

Interest waning, Castiel looked around before noticing something odd. The angel in question had disappeared. This was not an unusual occurrence, as Gabriel had an incredibly short attention span and no patience to speak of, but the trail he had left certainly was. It was leading straight towards Lucifer's chasm, where Heaven met Earth and Earth met Hell. Certainly he wouldn't have…? Not wanting to take the chance, he carefully opened his mouth only to have Michael hiss, "I'm not finished, fledgling!"

Five minutes. He had been going on for _five minutes_ and he wasn't finished yet. Castiel was brought back to the time when Gabriel said the elder had lectured him for three days straight. Holding back a whimper, he shut his mouth and pleaded silently for holy intervention. Say, in the form of an angry Raphael or the interrupted choirmaster Seraphael? Unfortunately, both seemed to cower away when Michael was in a foul mood and weren't going to be his salvation anytime soon. Or ever.

Snoring started up from the spot where the Winchesters sat, and Castiel's mood lightened just a bit. Perhaps he could sneak off while his now sleeping charges were berated to tears. He couldn't do that to them, though. As Dean's guardian angel, it was his duty to protect him, and therefore Sam, from any and all dangers. That seemed to include angry archangels, high demons, dark creatures, you name it and the boys had run into it. Power didn't seem to keep the beasts away, but guns and machetes seemed to hold up well. At least Lucifer hadn't found a way to con Sam into saying yes, or Castiel might just have to retire.

Michael advanced on them threateningly, but before he could smack them with the flat of his blade a great yell came from beyond the Pantheon doors. Pausing, the archangel looked around and realized his missing trickster. Castiel sighed and felt for the pulse of grace that signaled their wayward brother, frowning when he couldn't get a lock on it. Michael didn't seem to be having much luck either, as a look of panic interrupted the stern features. Raphael burst through the door, wild-eyed, and shouted, "The idiot! Michael, he is looking. That imbecilic, beloved brother of ours is trying to kill himself!"

Now far, far away from panicked, the archangels were absolutely frantic as they opened their wings and took off right inside the Pantheon. The resulting mini-tornado hit the Winchesters head on, forcing the boys to wake up and yell as they were tossed nearly head first into a mighty stone bookshelf. There was no time to explain, so instead Castiel clasped their arms and flew as fast as he could to hopefully save the 'wayward idiot'.

Castiel was forced to land in a crowd of angels both older and younger than he because the seemingly endless stream of angels pushed them from the air. Shoving his way past brothers and sisters, he felt wildly for the barest pulse of grace to tell him Gabriel was still in existence. It was there, thank Father, but so extremely weak…it was as if the powerful archangel was no more than a lowly soldier, with a grace so dim and diminished an imp could kill him with ease. The thought scared Castiel, an emotion he discovered he didn't like very much at all. Fear, though only a primal reaction to surprise or pain, was an element in it's own right. And right now, he was _very _afraid for Gabriel.

It wasn't long before he could see why all of his siblings were gathered. A few feet away in the middle of the impromptu ring, Gabriel floated three feet off the ground surrounded by a nimbus of brilliant gold. Whatever was happening didn't look in the least bit painful. In fact, the archangel looked contented in his cocoon as sightless glowing eyes stared blankly at the Earth below us. Michael and Raphael, standing at his side, were trying to reach out to him with disappointing results. Raphael was instantly frozen, ice strands woven through his black locks. Michael did little better. With the element of fire, he could not be affected by the water Gabriel commands and reached fearlessly through the light.

For a few moments, nothing happened.

Then an almighty burst of light threw him back and into Raphael, who was still trying to unfreeze himself.

Almost wonderingly, the gathered angels watched as streams of solid black flowed over the archangel and receded, leaving gleaming runes of power in their stead. One in particular under Gabriel's left eyes caught his attention. It was Enochian for clear, so Castiel was pretty sure it meant clear vision for when the archangel searched the past and future. Only when using his traveling skills would these markings be clearly seen. Looking closer, he realized his guardian was nearly see-through. As suddenly as the light had graced Heaven, Gabriel smiled softly and it disappeared.

Leaving a still smiling Gabriel falling to the ground. While Castiel watched, the archangel hit the clouds with a soft thud and did not get back up.

**Don't worry, people! He's not dead! I did not bring him back with the sole purpose of killing him again!**


	5. He's a Knockout

**Right, so, I promised not to kill Gabriel again. I swear, after this there will be more Cas/Gabe family fluff. I guess that's it. Thanks for reviewing and I don't own Supernatural. I own two cats and a sister.**

Chapter Five: He's a Knockout

"Gabriel…" whispered Michael.

Slowly walking towards where his youngest brother lied unmoving, he fell heavily to his knees and ran a hand through the caramel hair. None said a word to break the oppressive silence that hung over Heaven like a plague, though many were heartbroken from the loss of this newfound light. None more so than the ones closest to the seemingly dead archangel. Namely the remaining high angels and Castiel. Michael especially seemed lost, as it had always been him to protect and nurture the other archangels. He had failed on his promise to their Father.

Lifting the limp head onto his lap, Michael ran a finger over the cheek with the sigil and cried silently. Little Gabriel, who had taken upon himself all the grief and misery their family had and turned it to joy, never thinking of the consequences to himself. Trickster Gabriel, who had killed for amusement and play but had still sacrificed himself for two of the humans he'd mistreated. Then there was the angel Gabriel, who fought fiercely with his brothers even as a part of him was falling with their beloved Star. So many things that Michael had never noticed until now that made the grief all consuming. Now, noisy sobs wracked his body as he cradled the still body to his chest.

The grace was gone, from all that anyone could feel. All that was left was a shell that would soon sink through the clouds with a blinding flash of light. Even by thinking about it, Michael's hold tightened defensively as the tearstained face of a nineteen year old boy with the eyes of an ancient being looked through the crowded angels straight at the stunned looking Winchesters. Mouth moving just a little, he whispered in a powerfully echoing voice, "Thank you. For, for bringing him home."

Rising steadily, he and Raphael walked together as close as possible for comfort, each reaching out now and then to brush the unnaturally still Gabriel's wings by way of reassurance. Suddenly, they stopped. Then the others felt it. The beautiful golden grace barely flickering as it began to build again. Michael huffed in disbelief, but still smiled widely when a soft caramel head nestled itself closer to him for warmth, shivering with the lack of grace. Allowing holy fire to dance along his arms, Michael sent a continuous trickle of grace to strengthen his brother. Amber and gold eyes opened slyly as Gabriel asked, "Didja miss me, Mikey?"

Stopping the grace, he felt for his brothers and made a shocked sound. It was building up quickly without his help and it was just now that he realized that the hole through Gabriel's chest was completely healed, without even a scar to show it had been there. Blinking, Michael let him drop and listened to the indignant wail that followed. Now looking up at him with hair from his fringe covering one eye, Gabriel laughed brightly and sang, "You know you love me, Mikey! Hey, do any of you have a Snickers bar around somewhere? I'm hungry."

Sighing heavily, Michael and Raphael did what big brothers do best. They turn around and walk away without a word, slowly shaking their heads and muttering insults under their breaths. Gabriel turned around and practically blinded them with an all-out Cheshire cat grin. A few of the angels gathered gaped and murmured, but a few who were familiar with the archangel's strange tendencies went forward to stroke his wings and scold him for nearly killing himself. Castiel managed to shove his way to the front, smacking his idiotic mentor in the back of the head. Hissing, he exclaimed, "Never, _ever, _do that again, Gabriel! You had us all worrying for your health. Michael cried, Brother! _Cried!_"

Slowly, the pouting face turned into a solemn expression. "They are going to have to learn to live without me for a while, anyways. I'm leaving with you and the knuckleheads."

Choking on air, Castiel whipped around to stare at him like he was insane. Which he was. Clinically. Still, it wasn't the point. Gabriel, Strength of God and messenger between worlds and times, was joining team freewill. Something was going to explode, all of Earth's chocolate will be eaten and the Winchesters would be sucked into alternate realities. What could he say? _'Sorry, Gabriel, but although you'll probably win us the war you are a great annoyance and threat to societies. Perhaps you could stay in Heaven and argue with Raphael?'_ No. Then they would have an angelic stalker after them with the power to create a chasm in the middle of heaven with one blast from a golden horn that only said stalker knew how to find.

Gabriel snorted and said, "Relax, Cassie! I won't go anywhere you don't need me or try exploding the Impala. Although, the chocolate idea might be fun to tr- _fine, _fine, I'm sorry. Just don't look at me like that. Sheesh. No wonder Uriel is the funniest in the garrison…"

Face-palming, Castiel wondered how in the world he grew up normal with _this_ as his mentor. Actually, it was a wonder he grew up at all with all the times Gabriel had lost him somewhere either in Heaven or in a different time period. Let's just say, late Cretaceous? Not fun. He'd nearly gotten trampled by a Giganotosaurus. Twice. In one day. All because Gabriel found it hilarious to watch, until Michael came down and kicked him back to Heaven for a timeout. It was worth nearly dying to see that, although the elder archangel quickly regretted keeping Gabriel in the Pantheon. Who knew Heaven could be worse than hell?

One of the angels, Aziraphael, seemed to take pity on him and poked Gabriel somewhere in the stomach. To his amazement, the messenger squealed and fell fast asleep. Jaw dropping in slight shock, a human emotion that he had never felt before, Castiel asked, "How do you do that? If I knew, I could get him to stop talking. Show me?"

Smiling, his older brother replied, "It's a trick most of Gabriel's Garrison picked up in the early days. There's three spots on his stomach, one that makes him sleep and two that make him ticklish. Tariel found it when they were wrestling and it knocked him out for a good five hours. Peace and quiet unnerves us still, since we never had it before Gabriel left, but you should have seen poor Tariel's face when he didn't get up. He was frantic until Gabe started snoring! Ever since then, we poke him when we want him to stop. The best part is that he doesn't even know we do it!"

Lips twitching, Castiel thanked him and left to find Sam and Dean. Maybe having Gabriel with them won't be so bad, with a way to shut him up.

In the Pantheon with Sam and Dean…

To say that Dean Winchester was twitchy would be a lie. He was beyond that now.

No, Dean was full blown paranoid about being anywhere _near _Michael and Raphael. Of all the places he could have gone, this came second on the 'Get-me-out-of-here' list. The first was hell, of course. Heaven didn't exactly hold fond memories, but at least he wasn't being tortured. However, by nature Dean was a very patient guy unless Sam was in trouble. Here, with everyone he knew in danger, suffice to say he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. At the very least, waiting for Michael to make his move. Surprisingly, they were left pretty much alone. That also meant his paranoia grew.

When Castiel arrived with the flapping of wings, Dean had a gun to his head before Sam could even blink. Eyeing him cautiously, the fallen angel slowly put up a hand and forced the barrel away from his face. "I know you are uncomfortable here, Dean. We will be leaving shortly. Until then, I suggest putting away the gun so none of my siblings get the wrong idea. Also, Gabriel wishes to come back with us."

The last part was said so nonchalantly it was as if the angel had just asked him to pass the ketchup. Putting the gun back in it's holster, he snarled, "No. No _fucking _way is that creep coming anywhere close to me and Sam. Cas, you know what he did, so why are you still asking? Look, I know he's been through some pretty tough shit but that does _not _equal instant sympathy!"

"I'm not asking for your sympathy, Dean. He wishes to help and he wasn't even smiling when he said it. Gabriel was being serious and that has only happened a grand total of three times since I became his fledgling. He saw something when he was surrounded by the golden light that made him ask. So I ask of you, if I can keep him controlled, would you let him join us?"

Wavering slightly, one look at both Sam and Castiel's puppy eyes sent him over the brink. "Fine, I'll let him follow us. But I swear, if he makes just _one _innuendo, so help me God I'll-"

"Chop my balls off with a rusty spoon? Ruin my perfect features by repeatedly bashing my head against the Impala? Dean-o, we all know that you wouldn't do that to the old girl! As for my face, Cassie always did say I have a hard head. Let's prove it!" purred the freshly awake archangel.

Sighing softly, Castiel reached for his brother's stomach.

**Awww, poor Gabriel got knocked out by his own garrison…repeatedly. There is a reason for putting the whole 'knock-out' point in the story, but you'll just have to wait and see!**


	6. Favors and Falls

**Heya! Here with another chapter, with even more Gabriel mischief. We get to see just what's up with that dog Gabe has, as well.**

**Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly swear that everything and anything you recognize in this story is probably not mine. Anything that is, ask before using in your own story.**

Chapter six: Favors 

It was finally time to go. Dean couldn't really take much more, so it was pure ecstasy when he heard Castiel say, "Come, Dean. We're taking you back."

Yeah, until he remembered who the other part of that 'we' was referring to. Frickin' Gabriel, the psychotic, narcissistic archangel who decided on a whim to follow him and Sam for kicks. He was _really _getting tired of this crap. Wendigoes, vengeful spirits, Djin, _Fairies_… It was time to take a vacation. Unfortunately, it wasn't going to happen sometime this century so Dean gave up thinking about Honolulu and wondered just how long they'd been up here for. Days, months, maybe even years? Poor Bobby must be having a heart attack, by now. The bastard himself turned and smirked at him, then opened his mouth and laughed, "He won't even know you left, Dean-o. I can't travel in time for nothing!"

How very Peter Pan of him. God, he hated those Disney movies. Gabriel laughed again and turned to Michael. "Hey Mikey, can we refill Cassie here? Being the powerhouse is gonna get old fast. Please?" even Dean had to admit that the messenger could teach even Sammy a few things on how to pull off the perfect puppy eyes, but he'd never say it out loud. Of course, he'd never have to now that he realized the archangel was _reading his mind_. Giving said angel a withering glare, he paused when the words caught up to him. Gabriel was asking for Cas' grace to be restored.

Castiel looked just as surprised and slightly disappointed when the eldest shook his head. "He is a traitor to heaven, brother. Castiel shouldn't have even stayed here this long."

Angular face changing into a stubborn mask, the archangel defiantly floated over to Castiel and placed two fingers on his forehead. Golden grace shimmered on the tips, disappearing just as quickly as it came. The angel of Thursday gasped softly and started to glow a bright blue in response. Seconds later, the exchange of angelic mojo was finished and Castiel stood staring at a slightly dimmer Gabriel. Pouting sulkily at the incredulous Michael, he whined, "Just 'cus you said he's a traitor doesn't make him one. I've seen what he can do, brother, and it's more than we ever could. Castiel will make this world or break it and Heaven will suffer right along with it." Stopping, he cocked his head and grinned. "On that cheerful note, _vamanos _knuckleheads! We have a horseman to find."

Making a grab for their arms and ignoring the angrily shouting Michael, Gabriel took them back exactly two hundred and sixty five years, five hours, fourty-two minutes and thirty-three seconds to almost the exact time that they left. After all, he didn't want to change the time stream completely. Just enough so that he could see Bobby's face when they landed right in front of his nose. The cheerful smile he had when he landed faded when the retort of a gun ruined the chirping of the birds and put a hole right through the middle of his forehead. Tongue sticking out slightly, Gabriel tried to see the path through his brain but it healed too quickly. Plus, he was pretty sure he was going cross-eyed.

Smiling slightly, Castiel patted him on the shoulder and murmured in his ear, "I'm sure there will be plenty of time for you to discover you're lack of brains, but for now let's focus on finding the horsemen and getting Bobby out of his current state."

Not realizing the insult, Gabriel peered at the old human and realized he was blinking in shock. With a snap of his fingers, he summoned a bucket of water and splashed it onto Bobby's face. Spluttering, he hissed, "Thanks, ya eedjit! Now I have to replace that damned angel charm…" trailing off, he looked at them and sighed. "I'm too old fer this. Alright, who's the new guy?"

Giggling like a child, Gabriel said, "Let's play charades!" and got into the position of a trumpet player. Staring at him incredulously, Bobby grunted, "I'm guessing one of the younger ones."

Rubbing his forehead tiredly, Castiel muttered, "Actually, he's one of the oldest. Bobby, this is my brother Gabriel. Gabriel, you already know Bobby and most of his life story so I'm not going to bother. Any news?"

Glaring at him now, Bobby prodded the archangel with the gun that had recently put a hole through his head. In retaliation, he summoned an angel blade and gently poked him with the flat of the tip. It continued back and forth without anyone really paying attention to what they were doing until Bobby finally dropped the gun and shouted, "Alright, that's enough! I don't care if yer an archangel, if you poke me one more time with that pig-sticker…"

Getting that familiar look of mischief in his eyes, Gabriel slowly brought the blade closer to Bobby's arm until Castiel distracted him with a Twix bar. Sighing, he made the sword vanish and watched his brother chase the flying piece of candy until he deemed the archangel far enough away. Releasing his hold, he let the chocolate drop down to Gabriel, who cradled it like a baby and then ate it in record time. Shuddering in disgust, he repeated his earlier question. "Is there any news on the horsemen?"

Grunting, Bobby turned his attention to Castiel. "There was a murder in this lab where one man tore the other apart. Apparently, there was nothing' but sulfur in his blood that would make him do it so I'm thinkin' it was pestilence settlin' down for a good ol' pissin' contest. There haven't been any since then, but you boys should probably check it out. 'n get that idiot away from me 'fore I decide that holy oil is th' new way ta serve angel wings. Extra crispy."

On the road: Few hours later

"West Nevada going east, is it? Do we have much of a choice?" snickered Gabriel from the backseat of the Impala. Wherever Cas goes when he's not with them didn't seem to appeal to the archangel for whatever reason, so they were stuck with him. Joy. The laughter stopped suddenly, and they turned around to see Gabriel with a slight glow surrounding his eyes. "Hey, do either of you knuckleheads realize the king of the crossroads is looking for you?"

Just as soon as he said that, Crowley, the bastard who put them on a suicide mission against Lucifer with the Colt he knew wouldn't work, showed up in the backseat with the angel. Dean swerved, but Gabriel just laughed and said, "Hi, Crowley! It's been a while, hasn't it?"

The demon promptly looked at the more powerful being and smirked cockily. "Ah, so this is where you've been for two thousand years! The oh-so-powerful Lucifer was worried, you know. Sad, really, since we all knew you weren't dead. Just won me a new Ferrari, Gabe!"

Sam lunged at Crowley with the demon blade and punctured leather as he left. Now outside the car, he mockingly tapped on the glass. Yawning, Gabriel curled up for a cat-nap and a communion with his Father while the Winchester cornered the traitorous demon only to give him a lecture, threat and release type gig. Having already looked into the future, he should know. It was boring. So why listen in and mouth along to the words? Of course, his nap idea went down the drain when good ol' Crowley started screaming something about 'spotlights' and 'Earth and Heaven'.

Snorting, he stepped out of the car and chirped, "Hurry up, demon! The line is 'if you want to find pestilence, I don't know where he is. But I know the Demon who does. Sam, you can't come with 'cause I don't bloody well trust you. Now come on, Winchester!' There, was that so hard?"

Crowley glared at him and pointed angrily, "This right here is why I never talk to you. You always finish my bloody sentences! Have you ever heard of dramatics, you pompous pigeon? Oh, how about the fact that we're _in the middle of the thrice-damned __**road!**_ I think that calls for a wee bit of caution, don't you?"

"Please, I've had us off the radar for days. I even fixed that silly cabin you're hiding out in. Heaven or Hell, either one will never find you or the Winchesters. Except Cassie. Wonder where boy wonder is now?"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Crowley stated, "Look, I know we used to be brothers Gabe, but we aren't anymore. You can't keep trying to save me or you'll get yourself killed. Word down-under is that you already did and God brought you back. He won't do it again, kid. He said he loves us and he did, once upon a time. But not anymore. Now, you're just Michael's soldiers and that isn't worth it. Yeah, the Fall left scars and He only knows what scars Aziraphael's been cursed with since I followed Lucifer, but I'm not going back. And I'm not sorry."

Gabriel stared at him for a long time, ignoring the frozen Winchesters to size up his former brother. Before leaving, he stated, "We'll always be brothers, Damael. Whether you believe it or not, those bonds don't die from a few millennia apart and Azure never stopped missing his twin. So get over it _brother,_ because the Garrison's not going to leave one of it's own just because he Fell."

Crowley stood still for a long time before Sam and Dean were let free from the angel's bonds. Blinking, they glared at him and he got ready to do business.

Gabriel watched his brother kill the humans without even a flinch, something Damael could never have done. Perhaps he had truly lost the Seraphim. After all, he could feel the lies nearly pouring through the 'demon's' pores. Yet there was something about the way he did it that gave him hope that there was still some angel left in the hell-tortured body. The wings might be gone, the grace ripped out, but an angel would always _be_ an angel. Dean went up the elevator alone to confront the demon, but Dame muttered spells of protection in Enochian that would be strong enough to prevent Dean's murder.

Lips twitching slightly, the archangel couldn't help but smile when the promise was kept. Although, seeing Sammy that murderous was kind of like a flashback to the time loop days. Good times, they were not. When two humans almost exactly like the brothers he would die for without question need to be taught a lesson, it actually didn't bring him any pleasure like the rest of his tricks. Instead, it brought back Lucifer's screams as he was shoved into a cage designed to hold the most powerful creatures in the world. It would last for eternity and so would the screams.

Damael hadn't truly Fallen, unlike the rest of the high demons. No, he had been captured and tortured in hell before the fall had even happened. Lucifer likes to think he created the demons, but he just made them sophisticated enough to tie their own shoes and maybe make a soul bargain. The demons had been around even longer than the angels, because they were the reason the angels existed. To counteract the evil in the world, God made creatures of purity. With angels like Damael, that purity was tainted and could never be unstained. So why try?

Aziraphael had. Like now with Dean Winchester, both of them who killed and loathed demons with all of their being, they subtly changed. Just the tiniest bit that dramatically, catastrophically differed from the future they were born with. Dame was different from Lucifer. He could be fixed so that barely any scars remained, maybe none at all. Each time, he refused. Stubborn didn't just describe human families.

Sighing heavily, Gabriel winced slightly when the screams of the unfortunate demon horde filled the air with the essence of dying bird. Kind of this squawking, squealing sound that grated on the nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Father, it was atrocious! Apparently, it was also necessary so he'd have to live with it. Soon, he learned exactly why he'd have to. _Blackmail, of a sort,_ he mused. _Give him nothing to live for and make him prefer death._ Sneaky, he had to give his brother that. The distinctive howl of a Hellhound worried him greatly and digging a little deeper, he cursed when he found the demon magic and promptly extinguished it. The flicking of 'Crowley's' eyes towards his hiding place was all the acknowledgment he received.

It was beyond tempting to give him the finger.

The howls turned to snarls and Damael quickly gave in. _**Fine, Gabriel! Lend me a hound, would you?**_

He didn't answer, but wriggled his fingers and whistled. Atripholkolyke came with a tiny yap and jingle of his collar. In the terrier meat-suit, he looked like something that would lightly nip at a mailman's ankles until he actually took the whole leg. That hadn't been a good day. Whispering in the hound's ear, he gestured to the comparatively puny hellhound and flicked his fingers. The dog became invisible and slid silently to stand at Damael's side. Sending a surprised look into the bushes, Damael absently stroked the Gabriel Hound's long white ears as it growled threateningly at the whimpering, cowering hellhound.

The fight didn't last long after Atripholkolyke ripped half of the spiky spinal column out of the monster. Exactly five seconds later, a happily fed hound was lounging at his feet as he stroked the creamy belly fur. Gabriel wouldn't check on the Brother's Winchester.

Not tonight.

**Surprise! Crowley used to be an angel! That's the only reason I could think of why Gabriel wouldn't kill him where he stood. Hope you liked it. REVIEW!**


	7. Dream Catcher

**It's so boring over Christmas break. Whenever someone complains about school, at least it gives us something to other than this for six hours a day. My head? Exploded. **

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Christianity owns the angels, Robert Singer everything else. There's no me.**

Chapter Seven: Dream Catcher

It ashamed him to admit it but Gabriel did, in fact, check in on the brothers Winchester. Whatever made him take just a tiny little looky-loo wasn't important. He was needed. Apparently little brother was having Lucifer induced night terrors that he couldn't wake up from and hadn't told anyone about. Case in point, he was an eedjit just for not having thought of creating barriers and booby traps inside his ginormous noggin, but he was an absolute brain-dead _idiot _to think that he could control the devil himself. Hell, if God couldn't do it why did Sam Winchester think he had even the slightest chance? It was like sticking a Christian into The Pit-not a chance in the world of getting out.

Yet there was something stranger than just Sammy boy's seemingly legendary stupidity. He _was _fighting Lucifer, not in the waking world but it was damn near close enough. Maybe if Gabriel gave him a little extra boost, the teeniest amount of protection, the kid could save what little sanity he had left to keep it together and win. Loki's abilities could get them inside Sam's head without being detected and that was without the screwing around. If big brother Luci feels any tampering, hello Purgatory, land of unfortunate mishaps and exploded little brothers.

Seriously, though. If Sam had help holding up barriers that could keep away the devil, then the world had a chance. So it all fell on, naturally, Gabriel. Humming mission impossible, the archangel walked right in on Dean holding his brother down and quickly swatted his hands away. Sam immediately started thrashing and moaning, blood dripping slowly from a wound on the left side of his head. Whistling in mock amazement, Gabriel sang, "Looks like juniors got angels on the brain. Would you like the good doctor to remove them?"

Staring at him for a long minute, Dean finally nodded his head. "M'kay. But if you start screwing around in there, I swear to God-"

"Alright, alright, no strip clubs or chocolate buffets. I get it. Jeeze, have a little faith, why don't you?" Not waiting for a retort, Gabriel swiftly entered the hideous dreams.

Everywhere he could see, there was blood. Thunder made the windows of the tiny cabin Sam was trapped in shake and rattle while lightning lit up the sky like a bad imitation of fireworks. Body parts were lying strewn on the ground like a tree shredder had gone run-amuck, some still twitching in a perverse parody of life. All in all, it was a chaotic mess of memories and nightmares better left unseen by any human being. Of course, Gabriel was no human being and he'd actually seen this come to pass. The great Egypt massacre somewhere in the BC times. Those poor sons of bitches never saw it coming, but whoo! Go Moses! Way to stand up for you're religion!

Narrowing his eyes and cracking his neck, Gabriel prepared to do battle. Not literally, since he already knew firsthand how that would turn out. No, the archangel simply changed the scenery to portray the Garden of Eden in all it's splendor. Before Luci could change it to something even more gruesome, he set the twists, turns and traps in place all ready for the devil's homecoming. Nothing was left to chance as the strongest seals and spells held together the now beyond fortified mind. Smiling crookedly, Gabriel turned to the cowering human and poked him with a conjured stick.

The scream was ear-splitting, that was for sure. He hadn't heard anything like it since he'd shaved Raphael's wings some four billion years ago, but this was undoubtedly worse since it was from complete and utter terror. Crouching on his heels, Gabriel reached out and rubbed a soothing hand over the human's back. After all, he wasn't the fledgling's favorite for nothing. Humming an Enochian song under his breath, the archangel brought some of Sam's happy memories first and foremost in his mind. Not only would it calm him but it would keep out Lucifer as well. Sighing, he added some of his own memories to the mish-mash. Shining with golden grace, they lit up the surrounding area and chased away any lingering shadows.

Ever so slowly, Sam raised his head and opened his eyes. Blinking, he watched as birds of paradise swooped down to land close enough for him to touch. He reached out. A voice beside him spoke and startled him enough to choke on his own spit. "Well, well, well! Little Sammy has finally decided to come out of his flimsy glass shell. Hey, you wanna see a Dodo bird? They weren't exactly the smartest critters on the planet, but they were as amusing as He-"

"Don't say that!…not right now," Sam whimpered brokenly. A hush fell over the garden as Gabriel stood and walked over to one of the luscious fruit-bearing trees. Plucking something from it, he walked back and dropped it directly into the palm of his hand.

"Eat it, kid. I didn't poison it and it won't grow legs and try devouring you. It's just a plum."

Sam carefully took a bite. Warmth spread through his entire body as sweet juice trickled down his scream-roughened throat. Sighing contentedly, he turned to Gabriel and asked, "Why are you helping me? You're supposed to be killing us, convincing us to say yes to end the damn Apocalypse. You have you're brothers back. So, why help?"

It was quiet for a minute as the angel thought. Sam quirked his lips and stroked the head of a peacock that had wandered into range. It cooed and shook it's feathers as his fingers made trails in it's bright plumage. Finally, the angel answered. "Because once upon a time, Lucifer and I were family. Just because he killed me, which is a big turn-off for most people, and just because he left doesn't change the fact that I still love him. He was the brightest angel in heaven before he made the wrong decision. Trust me, if you were asked to bow down to two smelly apes picking and eating fleas off of each other's backs you would have thought Father was insane."

"But he wasn't. Lucifer, he didn't think anything could be more beautiful than him and Michael. The Morning Star might have been bright but he was colder than ice. Outer beauty means nothing without kindness. That is part of what makes angels imperfect to humans. We can't forgive and forget or learn to love. It's either in us or it isn't. We, the archangels, we loved each other deeply and Luci thought he was doing it for us. He was pissed when we wouldn't kill you humans. When we tossed him in the cage, it was all different."

"My point is, Sam, that you're all Dean has to live for. I had three brothers, but he only has you. If he lost that, it would be like me losing all of my brothers in one go. It breaks the strongest souls apart in the blink of an eye, when family like that dies. I don't want to see anyone go through that, not even you two knuckleheads. And that's the most I've talked about my family in centuries. I'm shutting up now. But seriously, Sam. Think about what it would do to Dean."

Sam blinked and thought. The months when Dean went to hell for him were the hardest in his life. If he went with Lucifer into the cage, there was no going back. Lucifer couldn't get through it and there was no way he could. Dean would be broken because of him. Before he could stop himself, he blurted out, "Show me. What would happen if I fell with Lucifer."

"Kid…"

"No. I have to see."

It was impossible to read the expression painted on Gabriel's face. Sam could make out pieces of the mask, like pain, anger, reluctance and sadness, but others were totally new to him. Sighing, the mask fell away to show acceptance. Gabriel reached out and placed two fingers on Sam's forehead as the sigil on his cheekbone started glowing. True to his word, the angel showed him. And it was hell.

_Sam stood motionless, watching Dean fighting recklessly against at least five demons. Whatever wounds he received in the fight, he let them keep bleeding when he limped to the Impala. The car, it was a wreck. Dean's pride and joy was riddled with rust, blood and bullet holes that shattered glass. His brother didn't even seem to care that he was sitting on shards of his windshield as he drove top-speed through the pouring rain. He didn't stop at Bobby's, just kept on driving while the wounds became infected. Call after call was missed, unless it was for a hunt. The gaunt face that Sam was staring at didn't belong to his brother._

_Not anymore._

_Castiel sometimes sat next to him in the shadow of the Impala, face impassive as he polished a gun. Cas never handled a weapon other than his own, but even as the car swerved he fired at a passing civilian. A demon in it's meat suit. It hit the heart dead center as they sped away with the screams of innocent women and children following in their wake. They didn't even slow down. Even when a tire blew on a nail discarded on the road, Dean ignored it and kept right on driving to the cheapest motel he could find. Castiel stayed with him, not having even a speck of grace left to his name._

_In the cage, he saw himself being stripped of flesh and screaming in continual agony as Lucifer took his revenge on the one person who made this future a reality. Eighty years pass by in Hell, with only eight up-top. Over a thousand more to go until the cage weakens enough to let them out. Dean would be long dead, and he himself would have no reason not to lay down and never get up. So what if the world needed heroes? Someone else could step up to the plate and be the batter for once instead of the viewer._

"_**Stop!"**_

Quivering from the possibility, Sam gave in and let bile fill his throat. Coughing and retching, he cried at what he thought he could handle. But he couldn't believe what he had seen could even begin to happen. Could anyone? Could anyone believe their only family would basically become the walking dead? That Hell wasn't just a word people use to describe a bad day at work, but their entire life? Or that what started out as a merciful warrior turned into an assassin just because _he believed in humanity?_

Believed in Sam?

Gabriel had shown him what he had thought of doing to save his brother from a pain worse than death, only to realize the consequences were more horrendous than the decision. Sam had asked for this, hadn't he? He had asked and he received what he had hoped would be a blissful life for the only people he trusted. Instead, he was shown a living hell full of torment and the urge to bleach his brain and start again. Gabriel sighed and murmured, "I tried to tell you, kiddo. My head is screwed up, I don't need yours to be as well. There's only room for one insane guy in team Freewill."

Sam doubted he would ever be able to live normally after that. The archangel muttered, "Thankfully for you, Sammy, I'm also the angel of mercy. You won't remember any of this when you wake up, I promise. And Lucifer won't get into here again. Just in case, I left Polyhanexekt to guard you're dreams. He's surprisingly good at that. Goodnight, Sam Winchester."

The memory faded into oblivion.

Smiling softly, Gabriel opened his eyes and looked at the quietly sleeping Winchester. It had only been two minutes in the waking world instead of two hours, but he was beyond tired of being depressed. While Dean rushed to his brother's side, he quietly left the room and popped a hot chocolate into existence. Gabriel ran a hand over his face and took a sip of the sweet drink, busily repressing memories stirred up by another person's dream. It shouldn't have affected him this way or in any way but they were so alike, Sam and Lucifer. Both fighting for what they believed in and both irreparably damaged.

He truly missed Lucifer and continually felt for bonds that weren't there anymore. Instead, he tugged on Aziraphael's bond and let the soothing emotions and thoughts of his garrison flow through him. It was comparable to using gum to stop a leak in a breaking dam, but it would work for a while. Michael was another brother he could resort to. Frowning suddenly, he felt for Castiel's bond and found that the grace was incredibly dim. Gabriel hadn't found a permanent way to hold his little brothers grace since Zachariah was slowly but surely draining it, but he would.

Gabriel couldn't lose another brother, or it would destroy him.

Finishing off the hot chocolate, he stepped into the mildew scented bedroom and knocked with fake cheer on the rotting wall. Which caved in on the third hit. Blinking, he stared at it in disgust and drawled, "I always knew you knuckleheads didn't have a fashion sense, I just didn't think it would go as far as this. Do the cockroaches serve you a continental buffet, or do you eat the leftovers on the floor? Decisions, decisions…"

Dean looked like he was about to comment and apparently thought better of it. Snorting, he replied, "It's better cockroaches than Wraiths, asshole."

Ooooh, he had him there.

**Some Gabriel angst there as well as some Sammy time. Wow, his head really is Hell. Poor archangel has scars on the mind. Review!**


	8. Puke

**I'm back. I'll make this quick. I don't own Supernatural, and hello! Thanks for reading.**

Chapter Eight: I think I'm Gonna Puke…

_A woman, choking and gasping for air as her doctor stares in fascination at the consequences of the diseases he was running through her veins. Lips moving in a countdown, the woman's eyes rolled back into her head with a brief flash of sickly green coating the irises. Celeste, her name is. Was. The doctor counts down and gets closer and closer to one until finally her time runs out. Pestilence doesn't even flinch when bright green ectoplasm mixed with vomit coats half of his face and lab coat. After all, his experiment worked. Now to check on his other patients…_

Shooting up with a gasp, Gabriel held his mouth and gagged as he ran to the bathroom. Dean's snores also trailed off abruptly with a curse when the archangel accidentally crashed into his bed and sent it into the wall. Oh, sweet mother Mary that was disgusting! Who knew that dream vomit could suddenly taste like _real _vomit? He really had hoped never to find out, but surprise! Atropos apparently still had a grudge with him after the whole losing her planner incident.

Praying fervently to God almighty that the taste and sensation would go away, Gabriel slid to the floor and moaned as he reached up to flush the toilet. Pestilence wasn't someone he was going to get anywhere close to anytime soon or he might just have to kill himself. Puke wasn't the way to an angel's heart, it was the way to discover what was in his stomach. Speaking of the digestive organ, it was really not his friend right now. This he discovered when it decided rather abruptly that the triple chocolate cake he'd eaten for dinner would taste good a second time. Bashing his head against the porcelain savior might have given him a headache, but it didn't help his stomach or the vision of old lady Celeste. Poor lady.

Dean hesitantly walked in behind him and opened his mouth to speak. Gabriel swiftly cut him off. "No, it wasn't the cake. It appears Pestilence makes a dent in my radar and apparently my stomach. Gross doesn't even _begin _to cover what I just saw. You boys are going to have to call in the cavalry for this one. Wait, I _am _the cavalry. Too bad, because I am skipping town until this whole thing blows over. He's all your's, Dean-o."

"I was going to say that Cas called. He's in a hospital somewhere and he's got a dead battery. Thought you fixed that?"

Sighing, Gabriel muttered, "Kid, unless you want toilet water wrapped around your insides this is not the time to tell me what I already know. It's a better comparison to a pool with a leak. I just filled Cassie's stores, it doesn't mean the power will stay. Like I said, oh wait. I didn't tell you this…well, Zacky is siphoning off boy wonder's grace. There you go, now go away before I hurl on your feet."

"Wait, _what?"_

Instead of an answer, the archangel snapped his fingers and sent the annoyance back downstairs. He might have put Dean somewhere a lot less pleasant but the clenching in his stomach said a big 'no'. Coughing and retching, Gabriel raised a fist in the air and wailed, "Damn you, Ammeron! Damn you back to Hell!"

Hearing the door slam shut as the Winchesters left, he promptly decided it was best to listen in. Pestilence might just have something nasty up his sleeve in store for the boys and it was better safe than sorry when considering the fact that Dean was Michael's vessel. Even if he didn't say yes, his brother would undoubtedly make life extremely unpleasant to live should anything happen to him. Double for Lucifer, considering this horseman was extremely rebellious and would probably give him genital herpes or something. Angels couldn't heal a disease directly from Pestilence, either. So if Luci got on his bad side…This was going to be an extremely long night…

Of course, hours after the brothers initially left he was proven wrong. Now sitting in a recliner that was definitely too old to have real comfort, Gabriel heard the coughing begin. Sounded like…scarlet fever? Yep. Looks like the old fart took out a favorite of his. Crashing into walls in a fever-induced delirium would only prolong the agony of seeing whatever the hell his enemy was doing, so Gabriel gave them an early Christmas gift. Kind of. _Seems like there's some wards around the hospital. They know the angels are helping the knuckleheads._ Gritting his teeth, the archangel began the painstaking process of trying to remove the angel wards without being turned inside-out. Just another day in paradise, after all. _Ce la vie._

Foot-tapping got him nowhere fast since it just caused further distraction. Checking in on the boys, he discovered a cocktail of illness spreading through their bodies. Including Syphilis. Wincing in sympathy for the brothers, he renewed his efforts to get through the shielding. _Ooh, looks like Cassie's joined in on the failure front. This is _not _going so well. _Blinking suddenly, Gabriel shook his head and grinned when his little fledgling expertly(clumsily) cut off the horseman's finger. Jumping up, he shouted, "Score one for Team Freewill!"

Hours later when they came through the door, slumping and weary, the archangel nearly fainted. The reek of unnatural power radiated off of them strongly enough to kill the Legion and Michael _combined. _As it was, he fell on his ass and blinked repeatedly to try getting the sickly green starbursts out of his eyes. When they just continued into the living room, that was when he took action. Grabbing the Winchesters with a burst of water from the sink, he snagged Castiel's silly trench coat and yelled, "OUT! Come back in three weeks when you don't feel like Pestilence!" before throwing them through the doorway and into the yard.

Of course, he didn't get his wish since it was Bobby's house. Unable to sense the horseman's touch, he let them back in about three seconds later after tossing a Hershey's bar into the bunker. Apparently, an old dog _can _learn new tricks when it involves something sweet and edible. Not that he was a dog. No playing fetch with him, or even his hounds for that matter. They prefer desiccated limbs. But again, not the point. After a while, the feeling wore off and the eedjits realized just what the youngest horseman was doing. Yes, youngest. Death is older than even god, bringing his power through the galaxies and exploding stars. Famine has always been there, since before the dinosaurs and way back when the demons were created. Chaos is the birth of a star in the seconds before it explodes. So Pestilence is young and relatively foolish to the ways of men and angels. He doesn't know what they can do.

Like Lucifer, he'd soon be screwed.

Pestilence was spreading the Croatoan virus through Flu Vaccine. Quick, easy and not likely to be discovered. It would be distributed all over the globe and nobody would ever know what happened until the planet looked like it came off of that 'Wall-E' movie. Only instead of garbage, corpses piled high as far as the eye could see. As lovely as it all sounded, Gabriel was fond of live humans even though they had their failings. Like snoring, for example. If Dean snored for just one more night, he was going to find a pillow shoved right up his-

"Alright, little brother, I don't really want to listen to the end of that sentence so think of something interesting. Met any girls lately? Tricked any humans?"

Damael. He was speaking to Gabriel in front of a horrified looking Castiel who looked very awkward holding a gun. Absently reaching out, he imparted the knowledge on how to use it inside the fledgling's head in case of emergency. Frowning, he searched for the barest hint of grace and was unable to find anything but the tiny echo and the feeling of misplacement. Sighing, Gabriel rubbed his forehead in hopes of getting rid of the forming headache with little success. It was sad, really. They were all going to die because of a petulant child under his father's thumb. AKA Pestilence under Lucifer's control. Nicknames were fun!

Wiping Castiel's memory of anything related to Damael, he grabbed his baby brother by the shoulders and turned him the way he'd come in. "It's the eleventh hour, bro! Didn't Bobby ask you to pack the car?"

This was going to be an absolute disaster.

Even though Gabriel felt moderately bad about staying in the salvage yard while his brothers and the humans went to do the Croatoan Cha-Cha, he didn't really do anything. Just sat still and listened for the sounds of hopeless screams when everything literally went to Hell so he could hopefully pick up the pieces and possibly put them back together. In other words, he was bored and insanely guilty. A deadly combination for Gabriel, who felt like every second passing by was going to ruin Aziraphael's life or his own. Castiel was still a big part of his life, just like Damael was in Azira's. It would be killer to have one or both of them die.

Suddenly, he couldn't take it anymore. Stepping into the yard, he opened the dimension holding his wings and grasped one of the kitchen knives from Bobby's table. Gabriel didn't need a mirror to do this, but he did need his true vessel. Minutes later, Loki was free and a teenager from Cain and Abel's time was lying dormant in his own skin. Bringing the knife to his new vessel's back, the archangel began to carve Enochian sigils deep into the flesh. Amber and white wings shimmered briefly into existence each time a sigil was cut until they stayed.

Dropping the bloody utensil, Gabriel took flight at an incredible speed. Now glowing gold, his wings created a shimmering trail leading straight into the warehouse holding a very bloody battle. Tucking away the appendages, he stepped through the door and watched as Sam got the last survivor outside. Gabriel snatched his arm and shouted to the two humans, "Cover your ears!" Then he did the last thing anyone would expect.

He drew a blade and cut deeply into an arm.

Sam, not recognizing him, made as if to toss him through the door but a swirl of red smoke obscured his vision. In the middle of the storm, Gabriel whined as the virus ran through him until it reached his heart. Letting out a loud screech of pain as the virus was destroyed by his grace, he had the pleasure of seeing Sam's stupid face when he started to gleam a red-gold. Gathering the last of the virus, Gabriel paused and smiled widely at Sam, Bobby and Castiel before letting loose a near demonic screech. Bright light filled the room and quickly died. Amazingly, the irritating old man and the knucklehead both survive with their vision intact.

Stepping over to them, he asked loudly, "What? I'm not allowed to help now?"

Before he could say more, a low buzz made him blink. The others didn't seem to hear it so it must mean… "Hold on."

Yet again opening his wings, Gabriel followed the buzz with his eyes closed as it got louder. Stopping in front of a Pizza joint, he shuddered violently at the feeling of death in the place. Opening the door, it was no wonder why when Agremmon looked up from his lunch and said calmly, "I need you to take a message, boy."

Ignoring Dean sitting in the chair across from the horseman, he dropped his gaze and held out a hand. Death took it and the sensation of swimming through an icy lake forced a shiver up his spine. The worst part was when it reached his brain. Paling at what he was about to send, Gabriel dared to look Agremmon in the face only to see a smug smile fitted on the gaunt vessel. Nodding slowly, he braced himself when Death ran a hand fondly through his now golden-brown locks. "Ah, now here's a face I've seen often. You really must be careful, Gabriel, although I'm really not complaining. Angels with future sight are always good company to have. Off you go, then."

Gabriel went, and he took Dean Winchester with him. After all, he could feel the ring's power but he could also see it hadn't been as successful as anyone had hoped. Yet the future stayed the same.

For now, anyway.

**There, done. Review.**

**Agremmon - Horseman of Death**

**Ammeron** - **Horseman of Pestilence**

**Damael - Former angel of Psychics (Future)**

**Aziraphael - Angel of Omens**


	9. Life is a Car Wreck

**This is going to cover all of the new seasons, so it's going to be a long one. Thanks for sticking with me, though!**

**I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape or form. That includes Jensen Ackles' form. Sooo hot…**

Chapter Nine: Life is a Car Wreck

Lucifer. The Horseman had given him an ultimatum to send to _Lucifer_ of all people. He could just see the reunion now, complete with flaming swords and spit that doubled as poison. There was no way he was going to even try breaking through the demon horde surrounding his brother just to give him a message that would kill him even more painfully than the demons. Not that Gabriel had a choice, of course. It was just nice to think that he had some illusion of freedom and self-respect left that he wouldn't even think of trying to find his homicidal brother, but the truth is? Gabriel had to.

It was his job, his life, his calling, whatever. He _had _to or it would be like this itch that he could never scratch. Gabriel just couldn't ignore it! Sighing, he literally dropped Dean onto Bobby's couch and started tracing Lucifer's tainted grace. It wasn't hard, as he had left pieces of it in a clear trail through at least thirty-six states and most of India. He wanted to be found by anyone who would be foolish enough to try it. Like Baldur the Brave, Brawny and Bigoted idiot who had apparently won the heart of the Goddess Kali even though it was obvious the witch didn't have one. Eh, well, he failed anyways. No use crying over spilt low-fat milk.

Getting through the demons was surprisingly easy. They reacted amazingly well to his treasonous whispers as they fought and tore limbs off of each other in a quest to be Luci's right hand man. As amusing as it was, the message he carried was distracting and he made his way hastily through the doors of an abandoned house in the woods. Very cliché, in a Freddy Kruger kind of way. Gabriel stopped and bowed silently to the closed doors, grinning widely as he sauntered carelessly through the dilapidated front hall. Whistling under his breath, he thought, _Wow, the water damage repair must really be a bitch. It's worse than that hotel starring the cockroach kick-line and the beetle bartenders. I've gotta say, Luci really went downhill._

Gabriel didn't even knock before bursting through the door the grace was hidden behind. Lucifer's vessel looked like it had contracted some horrible skin disease, basically withering away from the inside. His brother really _had_ gone downhill, a hill with extremely sharp rocks and pointy angel blades. Wincing at the stench of rot permeating in the air, he whistled in astonishment as the blood-clotted eyes whipped around to look at him. "Um, Luci, I'm no doctor or anything but I'm pretty sure the human is dying. Or dead, either way makes it harder to move. Say, has rigamortis set in yet? Is that why you can't stand up? By the way, when's the last time you ate? The vessel has to eat three times a day or it dies. Or gets cranky. Either way isn't fun to deal with. So, getting to the point, how are you, Luci?"

Lucifer just stared at him. No emotion could be seen from his angle, so Gabriel tilted his head a few times just to check. Wait…nope. Nothing. Sighing gustily, he sat down in a chair and shrieked when it immediately collapsed underneath him. An automatic pout drew a chuckle from his brother and Gabriel looked up in awe. The new vessel's hair got into his eyes, hiding an amber orb from view. Lucifer crouched down and swept it away gingerly. The devil blinked his reddened eyes a few times then started crushing Gabriel in a massive bear hug. Soft squeaking sounds were forced out of his throat as the vessel's lungs started losing air. Absently wondering if this was a new kind of torture technique, Gabriel patted his back feebly and wheezed. _This _was the reason road kill wasn't a cologne. A little too…_outdoorsy _for just about anyone.

Well. It was getting awkward now. Gabriel was pretty sure his brother was crying now, a damned scary thing to see since last time it had happened was the Fall. Still, he put up with it until a bloody-tear streaked face was lifted from his permanently stained favorite jacket. Lucifer reached out a hand to stroke his hair and pulled him close. Letting out a muffled _hurmf _as his face was crushed against surprisingly hard muscle, he wondered if everyone had a fetish for his hair. So far Michael, Raphael, Aziraphael, Tarael, Joshua, _God, _Champiel and Castiel had ran their hands through it. For the love of all that was holy, barely a week has passed! _A week! _Now the devil himself had a hand brushing through it and he started to wonder what would happen if he didn't have any. Would they rub his bald head?

Lucifer laughed loudly and Gabriel realized the Fallen Star had been reading his thoughts. Pouting in what he hoped was an annoyed face, he whined, "It's true! Everyone is always touching my hair! When I was a fledgling it was Joshua. Now it's caught on and apparently, I'm the only one who didn't know!"

Laughter dying off suddenly, Lucifer hugged him hard and he whispered painfully, "I'm sorry, Gabriel. I thought it was just another illusion. If the very thought that you were helping the Winchesters instead of tricking them occurred to me, you wouldn't be dead right now. I-I just want to go home, Gabe. I miss the light and even stick-up-his-ass Michael. I-"

"Hey, uh, Luci? I'm not dead."

The blubbering stopped as his brother looked at him incredulously. Then he was dumped onto the floor with an unceremonious _thud _as his brother stood up and walked away, shaking his head and cursing him under his breath. Eyebrows furrowed, Gabriel wondered where he'd seen this before and took off after Lucifer. As amusing as it was to see the look on that face, he still had a message to deliver. As soon as he opened the door, demons stopped their squabbling and stared at him hungrily. Hanging his head, Gabriel sighed and half-heartedly raised a fist in the air. "Curse you, Death! Curse you back t…aw, forget it."

Simply by opening his wings, half of the demons were incinerated by the pure light of the grace he was radiating. Only half, which left at least three hundred to go. Snapping his fingers, twin blades appeared on the other side of the clearing. Gabriel dropped his jaw and realized that Lucifer truly had a sick sense of humor to make his little brother fight with his bare hands through a horde of acid-blooded demons. Either that, or he had forgotten they were here and just ignored them as he walked through. It was more than likely he had walked right through them. _I always knew life was a highway, but does there have to be a car wreck every three miles?_

Amazing. Looks like the high demons were starting to close in. _Wait, is that a dragon?_ Apparently it was because Gabriel got a gust of putrid and highly toxic air blasted into his face. Gagging, he summoned a breath mint and shoved it down. Then he got about three thousand more and forced them down. The results were interesting, to say the least. Who knew that the critters could only eat flesh? Making a face and sluicing away the exploded stomach acid from his face, Gabriel promptly punched the nearest demon in the face and started moving. Inch by inch, hour by hour, he got closer to demolishing the foul smelling things his brother had lived with for a few millennia. How, he didn't know. Gabriel might be able to time travel but he didn't actually want to find out.

By the time he reached his glowing swords, two days had gone by and he was sweating like a human in the middle of an open desert. Angels _don't _sweat! Pissed wasn't an accurate way to describe how he was feeling right now. Hell, Gabriel might have already missed the Apocalypse! Panting, he dragged himself through another door only to find Lucifer freshly showered and eating a piece of toast. That was just…odd. There he was, covered in Demon juice while his big brother reads the newspaper eating jam on toast. Snarling in an excellent impersonation of one of his hounds, Gabriel lunged forwards and snagged the offending piece of bread. Flinging it out the window, he ignored Lucifer's surprised grunt when two of his fingers prodded harshly art his forehead. Rippling spread through the skin as the message relayed itself.

_**Lucifer, you pompous, spoiled little brat, I'm afraid there's some bad news. Not only has one of you're favorite pets turned on you, but my brothers have failed to keep the worms from taking their rings. As such, I took my chances and handed mine over for a deal. You WILL fall, Lucifer. You are a little boy having a tantrum because he didn't get what he wanted just one time. I. for one, am not going to be led by an incompetent baby. I am DEATH, for crying out loud! Therefore, I look forward to seeing you sometime after the Winchesters put you back on time-out. **_

_**Worst of luck, Agremmon**_

Gabriel blinked to see a fist aimed directly at his face. There wasn't enough time to block it so guess what? There's going to be a pretty purple shiner there in about three days. Inching back slowly, the messenger took his chance and flew away. Demons screeched angrily as the scent of a powerful angel got fainter and fainter until it wasn't there anymore. Only then did they realize that they had lost their prey. Lucifer stormed out of the house as it disintegrated in his wrath only to grab the necks of two demons and growl, "Find him!" before storming off somewhere in the forest. Not even an idiot would follow.

Now miles away from the forest, Gabriel rubbed a hand over the bruising eye and healed it. In fading light, he could still make out the scene of Team Freewill drinking and planning somberly for their demise. Sighing softly, he couldn't help but think of everything that could never happen because of the paths that were taken. If Mary hadn't been a hunter, the boys would have had a normal life and normal families. Gabriel would still have nothing but it didn't matter. Things much greater than him were at play everywhere in the world, places with too few hunter and believers to make a difference. Places where not enough people cared about the old ways and worshipping God Almighty for all that he had created. The big things that no one could change.

Ruffling his wings, the messenger took off and landed sitting down on the table. Grinning widely at the shocked faces, he snorted when all three guns went off. One bullet to the head, one to the chest and one to the….oh. Um, the one place a man should never be shot. Eye twitching, Gabriel slowly slid off the table to clutch that certain spot and whine miserably. Atripholkolyke couldn't of done any better than the watery puppy eyes he was making. Three parts pain, one part misery. Stir it all together and you get a nearly crying archangel who's had a very bad day and an even worse family reunion. Who knew if Lucifer was telling the truth when he said he missed home? Maybe Michael could forgive him.

"Balls! I though ye said he wasn't comic back! Damn near gave me a heart attack," grumbled Bobby.

Silently fuming, Gabriel stood up slowly and smiled when Castiel leapt out of his chair when the blood and gore became visible. "Just paid Luci a visit. Gotta say, he looks like he should have been six feet under about six weeks ago. I'm pretty sure he's gone all rigamortis-y so it might be a little more painful when he tries to take over Sam. Oh, and Samantha? Work on the aim, alright? I'm begging you, kid."

Castiel looked him over and stated with a casual head tilt, "You don't seem to be injured."

Snorting, he replied, "I've been fighting Demons for two days straight, Cassie! Of course I took the chance to heal myself. Would you rather I looked like something dropped in a blender? Because even though there's seven hundred and forty-nine less demons in the world, the remaining ones will be happy enough to take out a chunk of angel flesh. Now excuse me while I wash the Demon blood out of my mouth."

While on the way to the bathroom, Sam caught up with him and asked, "Could you bring their blood back here? If I'm going to hold Lucifer, Bobby said I need to drink it."

Gabriel was indecisive. Should he laugh or curse? Automatically tilting his head, he asked, "You sure about this?"

When the boy nodded, Gabriel had no doubt that he was going to be dragged to Hell fifteen times and back by the time this fight was over. Whatever the angels might say about humans didn't seem to cut it with the Winchesters. Mary died to save her husband, John died to save their son, Dean died to save his brother and Now Sam was going to die to save the world. Talk about lack of self-preservation…

Realizing Sam was still there, he sighed wearily and snapped open his wings. Demon's blood. He was willingly going hunting for demon's blood. Father owed him big time for this.

**Coming up next is Swan Song, possibly the saddest episode in supernatural. I cried. I don't cry. EVER. Review, please!**


	10. Betrayel by a Brother

**I'm back! Thanks to Elliej939 for being my only reviewer. Seriously, people! Throw me a bone here! I don't own supernatural in any way, shape or form. If you review, I'll give you a bonus chapter to the prequel I'm going to write when the story is on HIATUS until season 8 comes out. There's lots of cute Gabriel/family fluff!**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural. Pretty sure Robert Singer does.**

Chapter Ten: I can't be Tamed-oh, wait. THERE we go…

Sam had asked for Demon's blood. A relatively simple request that forced Gabriel to search the world at least fifty times over for large enough hordes that also didn't have enough power to turn him into an angel-kabob. As it turns out, there weren't that many. The two nests he'd managed to take out hadn't provided enough blood for what Sam would need to host Lucifer. That and he had no place to put it so it was in an alternate dimension being stored with his wings. There was something truly wrong about that. An archangel's wings, pure and light, being stored with gallons of Demon blood. Those eedjits owed him _big time. _

As luck would have it, Luci had set the remains of his horde on the messenger's tail. They caught up after the second impromptu massacre and that was where he was right now. Summoning bombs of holy water and chucking them desperately into the writhing mass of anywhere from five-hundred to five-thousand of the cursed creatures. Atropos _really _didn't seem to like him today. Distantly hearing a sword coming straight at him, Gabriel ducked at a blurring speed and slammed a sword deep in the meat-suit's heart. Eyes flaring gold, he released the soul to Heaven and rapidly took out five more, all the while collecting every damn drop of blood that they shed.

Most of it got on his clothes and if worst came to worst, there was always the chance that his own scent would be buried under theirs. Which was pointless because Demons fight each other as well as angels. Flying wasn't an option since Sam needed the blood and incineration by angel grace didn't exactly leave much left to collect. Also, his wing had been stabbed about five minutes ago and was hurting like a bitch. There was no possibility of running with nowhere to run _to _except the salvage yard. Life sucks but at least he was collecting the blood. Damn, this was tiring. Gabriel summoned his Hounds, leaving Taradifayek, Qietimen, Apotrawurf, Hyftunguilter and Filqrmare to bring him mouthfuls of the sticky black gook that he now pitied the human to drink. Just looking at it was enough to make him throw up a little. The Hounds weren't exactly ecstatic, either.

With their help Gabriel managed to get about two-hundred gallons and a clear escape path. Flipping off the high-demon wasn't necessary, but it made him feel a damn sight better than the poor sods lying on the forest floor. The Rainforest was as good a place as any to field an ambush. Said Rainforest was now almost half destroyed and feeling guilty, Gabriel brought back the little animal souls and used his grace to expand the boundaries of the Earth-Eden. It was as close as humanity would get to what their ancestors abandoned. Too bad they were destroying it little by little. Oh well, not his problem. The Hounds took their fill and left for their endless fields while Gabriel was left to clean up what was left. To put it mildly, the whole thing looked worse than WW2. A snap of his fingers was all it took and the whole place was picture perfect.

Two minutes later, he was gritting his teeth and watching Bobby bleed a Demon dry. What the hell? Didn't Sam want the demon blood or did they just want to get rid of him? Clearing his throat, Gabriel got no satisfaction from watching them jump when, surprise, surprise, three shots broke the silence in the salvage yard. In milliseconds he was behind them and shaking Sam by the shoulders. "You knucklehead! Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get two hundred gallons of demon blood? _Two hundred gallons_ from both sides of the globe! I'm sore, bleeding and likely poisoned yet here you are, not caring and apparently _you forgot what you told me to do! _So you'll have to excuse the minor fact that I'm about to kill you and bring you back only for Lucifer to kill you and Michael to kill Lucifer! God, this is a terrible day for me." Winding down, Gabriel settled the stunned human back on the floor and sank to the ground.

Castiel walked towards him and kneeled in front of him. Gabriel spoke in a hoarse whisper. "You should have seen them, Cas. They were going to kill each other. There wasn't anything I could do to make them stop without putting others in danger. I looked through every possible future, always getting worse and worse until nothing existed in Heaven or Earth. They knew. I told them what would happen and they kept on fighting and arguing with me and Raphael stuck in between. It was no easy choice to pick Michael because even if Lucifer was my brother, so was he. Did you know Lucifer taught me how to fly? All of my tricks? They were his. Michael helped me pick my first sword and kill my first Demon, made me the General of the Legion."

"There was no choice for me so I was the middleman for all of twenty centuries until Azazel tried to kill me. Brother turning on brother, spilling blood like you wouldn't believe. God, Cas! You should have seen the beginning! We were all crying and bleeding but they didn't notice. **They didn't care.** Michael is the good son and the Fall was the way he interpreted Father's orders without even consulting the only one who could see the future. The one he chose was one of the worst possible outcomes and he wouldn't _listen _to me anymore. The way Michael and Lucifer fought in the beginning made all the angels cower in fear until they took their battle to the skies. What I showed you was the very end. I made a deal with the horsemen that their rings would open Lucifer's Cage if I promised my service as a messenger between them. I locked up my big brother and now it's my fault that it's happening again."

Gabriel was crying and rocking silently as sobs shook him. The story he'd just told was a true one that the brothers had needed to hear. For Sam to do this was to lose the brother he knew forever and eternity with one hope of being free of the Cage. Gabriel was the only one other than God who could even touch the cursed thing without being blasted to Purgatory. He was the only hope the brothers had to be reunited and he wouldn't do it if it freed Lucifer again. The pain of losing a brother hurts but to lose them all at once was so much more than torture. Like a bullet wound that just keeps getting larger and larger until there isn't a you left. Gabriel had tried to protect the brothers from what he'd seen and they bulldozed right through every safety measure he had put into place.

Stubborn until the end. Damn it!

Castiel wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders and pulled him closer. The harsh choking sounds were slowing as he looked up, meeting each human's eyes in turn. "I won't lie to you this time. The Cage has only one way to open it. Well, two if you count divine intervention. My horn will open it quicker than Cassie can fly but it will let Lucifer back on Earth. I'm sorry Dean, if you want Sam out of the Cage again it'll be The Apocalypse: Take Two. I can't let you do that."

"You son of a-"

"Dean." Sam murmured in a calm voice. Glancing at the crumpled archangel, he said, "It's time to go."

Shaking off his depression, Gabriel leapt up and chirped, "Oh well. Time to die, I guess. We going or what? And can I get a Hershey's bar before we sacrifice Sam to my holier-than-thou big brother?"

Once again amazed by his mentor's switch in moods, Castiel absently handed him the chocolate bar he'd picked up from a gas station during one of his walks. The messenger's eyes widened gleefully as he took it and shoved half of it in his mouth. Letting out a moan he knew would disgust most anyone, Gabriel whispered to himself, "I'm going to miss this."

That's right. Gabriel had one final trick up his sleeve before Ragnarok could rip the world to pieces. The futures were brighter now than before, during the Fall. Apparently humans make all the difference. Before the brothers could take off, he grabbed Sam's arm and smiled wickedly. "Aren't you forgetting something, Sam? Oh, say, all of the blood you had me nearly kill myself to get? Unless you want to drink it out of your shoes, I suggest you get a bucket. A few _hundred _buckets. Chop-chop, kiddo."

In the end, the blood was emptied into Bobby's bathtub. Poor guy was going to need more than Mr. Clean to solve this mess. After the first time Gabriel lost count, but it was a lot of blood. Sam looked sick by the time his alternate dimension was empty of all but his wings and the archangel didn't blame him. Imagine drinking Tar mixed with rust and iron to form this kind of sludge that doesn't flow gently down your throat but basically oozes slowly down until it hit's the bottom. There are many culinary delights in the world and Demon blood? It's right up there with Battery Acid. Probably tasted about the same and Gabriel would know, for various unknown reasons. Sympathy would be overrated in a situation like this since there was no way he could be Lucifer's true vessel, ergo, he didn't have to drink that shit. Then again, Sam _did_ get addicted to it. An acquired taste perhaps?

Then the fun and games began. After asking them to turn around, Sam actually drank the blood. Shuddering at the acrid taste that was suddenly in his mouth, Gabriel realized he had just licked his lips. Gagging and wondering why he hadn't washed off the black gunk, the messenger made strange faces as he patted Sam on the back. "Keep drinking, Sam-I-Am. Unless you want to turn into the poor sucker playing hostess to the devil right now, I suggest drinking it all. Seriously. Death is not a good look for you, nor will it ever be a fragrance by Armani or any other one of those crap perfume manufacturers. Trust me when I say you might want to bring a gas mask when you visit my brother. I'm pretty sure rigamortis is setting in, too, so don't be surprised if he starts cracking his-er, your-fuck, I don't know! Just don't worry if he starts cracking bones that you didn't even know you had. He's still gonna be pretty stiff after he leaves that corpse."

Sam looked pretty terrified now. Mentally slapping himself, Gabriel closed his eyes and muttered to himself, "This is why God only gave me one fledgling." Louder this time, he stated, "Now would also be an excellent time to tell you he knows about the rings. I'm not the only one who knew and they probably gave it up a long time ago. In conclusion, don't try screwing with him because Lucifer invented the meaning of the word. Well, good luck and don't kill your brother!"

That was all he said before shoving the protesting Winchesters, Bobby Singer and Castiel into the Impala. Stopping at his little brother, Gabriel pulled him into a tight hug and whispered in his ear, "Light the napkins in the bottle under your chair and throw it at Michael when they fail. You'll buy them some time when it comes to blows. Goodbye, Castiel."

This was literally the first time Gabriel had called his fledgling by the proper name. It scared him beyond words but he didn't protest when his brother shoved him into the car. The archangel looked sadly at the car as it made it's way across the bridge and onto the road and knew he was making the right decision. Hours later, when the boys were in Chicago and Dean made the promise that would ultimately decide the fate of hundreds of people, Gabriel smiled as the future became clearer. While this would take much time and effort on his part, he knew he wouldn't regret a thing. _The cards will fall where they will and it isn't my right to change them. I only wish the circumstances would be better. Dean, say goodbye to your brother._

Just as he knew it would, the grand plan failed like a guy washing his car in the rain. Funny thing is, that actually happened. Anyway, Sam was banished to the back of his mind and Dean was trying to find a way to join his brother in his 'death'. Sibling fluff is nice and all except when one dies and then the other goes bat-shit crazy. By far the best example of this is when Dean told everyone he was going to try talking to Samifer(not Sam, not Lucifer, it was weird just calling him Sam, so what?). Snorting at this, Gabriel said slowly with enunciation, "Dean. Sam is Lucifer and Lucifer is Sam. Get it through your thick head that he's not coming back without divine intervention. Let me just tell you that God is a very busy person, so I'd say about…ten years at best?"

Dean roared in anger and took a swing. "You son of a bitch! God might not have time for humans but he didn't have time for you, either. How long were you rotting away inside Loki before he noticed you? That's right, dick. He 'loves' you just as much as he 'loves' us."

Gabriel laughed. He laughed because even though it did sting a little to have the one person he was doing this for other than himself was judging him for trying to rile him up. Again, there were reasons better explained later during the grand finale. While Castiel and the humans gazed at him with anger he couldn't help but wonder if they knew exactly what he had riding on what he'd put in Sam's head that day at the diner. _They'll find out soon enough, won't they?_

They did. Dean spoke to Lucifer and pissed off both Michael and Lucifer, hardly surprising since Michael was angriest when he was about to cry. Gabriel could feel the eldest's anguish at needing to rid himself of one of the brother he'd practically raised from a fledgling. The hurts went deep. Castiel and Bobby made it to the cemetery just in time to see the archangels advancing on the stubborn hunter. Realizing at the same time as his little brother that he had forgotten to bring a lighter, Gabriel groaned in frustration and flew to Louisiana. Snapping his fingers and ignoring the beseeching looks from his elders, he lit the candles and promptly turned to throw it at Michael. Ignoring the screams to the best of his abilities, Gabriel closed his eyes when Lucifer gave the smallest movement of his hand. Castiel burst like an overfilled balloon. Bobby shot him and had his neck snapped.

Letting the tears free as Samifer started in on Dean, Gabriel saw his eyes widen as they came in contact with the soldier stuck in one of the Impala's ashtrays. Memories that he had wedged between Sam's greatest nightmare and reality began to surface beyond Lucifer's control. Ever so slowly, the young Winchester backed away from his brother and said, "I'm sorry, Dean. I have to do this."

Gabriel watched Sam throw the Horsemen's rings on the ground but Lucifer gained control of his speech before the spell could be said. Rising from his spot on the ground, the archangel stood beside him and murmured it for him. Michael was coming back _now. _There wasn't any time left for goodbyes. Adam was fully healed and the vessel containing Michael was pulling them away from the hole swirling in the ground. With no emotion on his face, Gabriel shoved both of them into the Cage. Turning to face Dean, he said loudly, "Don't worry, Dean-o. I'll keep him safe. Tell Cassie I'm sorry."

Pausing time for the briefest of seconds, he let his new vessel go and returned to the waiting Loki. He could withstand this. While his true vessel crumbled to dust, Gabriel jumped into the Cage before Castiel's grace-bright eyes could comprehend what they saw. Gabriel the Archangel would protect the humans he fought for.

Even if it was just one stubborn Winchester.

**Told you he had a plan. Gabriel is going to buffer Michael and Lucifer's attacks away from Sam to keep most of his sanity intact. Don't worry, our favorite archangel still has an ace in the hole. REVIEW! Put what theme you want for your extra chapter and I'll send it to you via e-mail or something. **


	11. Hell in a Box

**Ok, so I realize that my grammar leaves something to be desired. So, help? Be a critic, because flames only make Michael happier. **

**Disclaimer: Don't. Own. Supernatural.**

Chapter Eleven: Hell in a Box

He said he'd keep the promise to Father and that's exactly what Gabriel did. Before he left Heaven and became Loki, God told him of two people who could reunite the archangels again or destroy them completely. He told Gabriel that he had to make sure they lived that long. Since he wasn't all that into bullshit, he must have been telling the truth. Now Gabriel was with his brothers, till apocalypse do they part forever and eternity. With the added bonus of a stubborn ass Winchester who refused to stay behind his well-armored wings and his half-dead half brother. It had only been three years down in the Cage and he was about to kill them. Not only was Lucifer still gunning for Sam, fighting Michael and trying to kill him all in one go, but he had a really bad craving for chocolate. See the stars again and laugh with his garrison.

Gabriel also had another promise to fulfill. This one to Bobby, Dean and Castiel. Before he let himself fall, he'd told them that he would protect Sam from Lucifer and keep his soul intact. Hell of a job, since the kid was nearly suicidal in trying to help Adam. After ten years, he finally managed to get the boys behind his wings and fend off any attempts from Lucifer. Twenty years; Michael and Lucifer were still going at it but there was less anger and more desperation. Sam was all but rocking on the ground from the sights that he'd seen and everything he'd heard. There was only so much Gabriel could do for him before one of his brothers lashed out. Mentally and physically, it was killing the humans. For Gabriel, it was more of a hiccup in his extremely long life that wasn't actually all that bad. Aw, well. Life sucks. Then you throw yourself into a literal cage with the devil and Heaven's champion, wasting away behind the messenger's wings. Well, that's a new one.

Sighing, Gabriel took a little peek to check on Dean and immediately wished he hadn't. Who knew humans could bend that way? He certainly didn't and he wished it had stayed that way. Choking, he turned to Sam and muttered, "Well, at least Dean-o has a…um. A special friend. It's nice to see that his Libido hasn't suffered any." Sam gave him a look that said _I'm smiling, I just don't have the energy to actually move my face._ It would work.

After forty years, they had finished fighting and were playing cards. "Gabe, you got any threes?" asked Lucifer with a look of imperial boredom on his face.

"Go fish. Sammy, you got any queens?"

Sam, looking a lot less scarred and more annoyed, threw down his cards and demanded, "Why do we even let him play? He knows what we have already. Who wants to play Yahtzee or something that he can't cheat at?"

To his surprise, the Archangels that had originally wanted to kill him nodded sagely and put their cards down. Gabriel pouted and looked over to the slumping Adam. "Hey kid, what do you think? Yahtzee?"

Giving them a look of complete and utter disbelief before turning around and ignoring them. This had been happening ever since he opened the Cage so Gabriel was pretty sure he was hating on Sam. _Great, another sibling feud. The next one is gonna kill me._ Sighing, he increased the water surrounding them and turned it into a swimming pool. Michael didn't look happy, but Lucifer cracked a smile. Sam just floated and Adam didn't react in the slightest as he sat at the bottom, unable to die when technically, he already did. Paddling over to the spot the brooding idiot sat, he easily dunked down and sat beside him. Mentally, he asked, _why aren't you having fun? Would you rather Mike and Luci try taking it out on your hide?_

_**He's the bloody perfect one. I'm just the extra.**_

Breath bubbling in the water, Gabriel sighed and thought,_ oh, Father, not again._ The same thing had happened to Aziraphael and Damael after the latter's unfortunate Fall. It was known as 'little brother syndrome'. The symptoms? Chronic jealousy, misdirected anger and a need to prove yourself to the highest authority. Or the only one who you even considered family. Gabriel abruptly decided he didn't want in on this one and after a quick sort-it-out bitchface, joined his brothers and Sam back on the surface. He got rid of the pool after Adam threatened to stick an angel blade somewhere extremely…unpleasant.

Sixty years in the cage and they, Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel, were tilting their heads to watch the fight between Sam and Adam. The tension had exploded three years ago and had turned into an all-out war between the two to see who could give the biggest life-threatening injury. As it turns out, they forgot that they were already in Hell and couldn't die. Therefore, whenever one of them got in a good hit, they screamed, "Damn it!" because the other just got right back up. Gabriel glanced at his own brothers, who gave him a look in unison that screamed, _don't even bring that up._ Putting up his hands in surrender, he got up and swiped the angel blades from the idiots. "Put those down! You could poke someone's eye out with that thing." Needless to say, neither looked impressed.

Seventy years? They were back to cards. Sam and Adam had made a truce and even though they still didn't like each other, they'd decided to give it a shot. Mostly thanks to Lucifer, who threatened to split them in half and combine them until the end of time. It seemed that he was finally over his temper tantrum and had accepted the fact that humans were there. Would've been great if he realized it sooner but still, it's the thought that counts. Gabriel was still cheating at cards and was still being grounded by Michael. Even in the middle of Hell, you couldn't change that. Amazingly enough, the archangels were brothers again after millennia's of hatred on both parts. He could already feel the bonds between them reforming even stronger than before the fall.

Eighty years. It was time. Sam Winchester top-side needed a soul and Castiel needed his Mentor. Not to mention Heaven needed Michael more than a flower needed rain. To say the least, it was wilting. Things were being put into motion that should have laid dormant for centuries more without Heaven and hell hurrying on the Apocalypse. Well, now that they were happening there was no choice in the matter. Whatever he couldn't see was coming after the Winchesters and attempting to reclaim the world but he couldn't be sure. No, he could only hope it wasn't _them._ Earth needed it's angels or else things were going to get crazier and more unbelievable than they already were. Gabriel might not have been able to see what was going to happen but he was damn sure going to prevent the worst. Unfortunately, his brothers would probably hate him for what he was about to do.

Looking at the four of them staring at the colorful runes adorning one of the walls, he chirped, "So, who wants to get out of here?"

They froze. Michael and Lucifer turned to look at him slowly, each with fire burning in their eyes. Flinching slightly, Gabriel carefully brought a gleaming war-horn from one of his pockets and enlarged it. Sam picked up an angel blade and was shortly followed by Adam. The messenger grinned unabashedly and said, "Cover your ears, boys! This is going to be loud."

And it was. Pressing his lips to the instrument, Gabriel started playing a happy tune that made the four listeners stop and smile as happy memories long since forgotten rushed before their eyes. Such was the power of the herald's flawless skill and longing for something seemingly just out of reach. The volume became louder and louder until the memories were ignored in favor of plugging their ears against a noise that was by far greater than any ever heard. Michael and Lucifer simply listened, as they had heard the horn many times before in times of both happiness and grief. The Morning Star had missed this sound the most. As they watched and listened, runes began to glow around the herald and their prison began to shake from the intensity. Demons shrieked at the pure sound before the Cage literally began tearing itself apart from the inside.

Until finally, they were free.

Gabriel lifted Sam off the floor as Michael did the same with Adam. Lucifer simply reveled in flying with his newly formed white and black wings, truly free for the first time in millennia's. Gabriel was weak from using his own grace to supplement the horn's, so he decided to drop off Sam's soul to Death and take a short breather in Heaven before checking in with the knuckleheads. After all, he could feel the warmth of his garrison's grace searching for him and Castiel's pain at having lost him again. Michael and Lucifer flew close to him in case he dropped out of the sky like last time as he drifted closer to the Horseman. Nodding, he opened the bag and Sam was sucked inside.

While his brothers all but carried him to Heaven, he couldn't help but wonder how badly Lucifer had harmed the kid's mind in those first forty or so years. It wasn't totally possible for Sam to become brain dead from the mental tortures but it was still a possibility. Before he knew what was happening, Gabriel had fallen asleep.

Lucifer and Michael watched him tenderly as the teenage angel's golden hair drooped down to cover his face. They hadn't thought he would go this far to protect the race of humans when he had been so indecisive at the start. Now they could see what he had the moment the archangels had seen the fragile creatures. A divine war that would rip Heaven to the point of breaking and leave Earth a sundered mess. It wasn't that which had made him confused - it was them, two different opinions both asking him to fight for them. Michael and Lucifer knew they had been selfish and blind not to see how the war they'd started affected everyone around them. The twins, Gabriel and even Seraphael because all considered the Morning Star beloved.

Touching down on the clouds, the brothers faced each other and smiled. For the first time since the Fall, all of the archangels were in the same place and no one was going to die. Feeling guilty for what he had done in a fit of betrayal, Lucifer gently took his little brother's sleeping form from Michael and cradled him close to his chest. His brother understood, of course. After all, he and Raphael had very nearly killed the messenger when he was no more than a fledgling. It hadn't been intentional. More out of annoyance than spite but they had done it anyways. It made no difference what the intentions were. Like it or not, they were stuck with Gabriel till death to they part. Like the wedding vows from Hell.

Of course, they got a true look at Hell when they saw what had become of their peaceful home. Faces completely blanched of all emotion, they watched incredulously as garrisons of angels swarmed around each other with biting steel swords and scimitars. Another group attacking from the ground led a charge across the clouds before Michael's voice boomed, "_STOP! _What the hell are you doing? Stand down now!"

Turning with a sneer on his face, one of the flying fighters jeered, "We don't follow anyone but…Michael?" he finished, gaping in disbelief.

Ignoring the fluttering idiot, Michael glared until all of the fighting garrisons were kneeling and wailing at his feet. Lucifer looked incredibly amused at this, absently running a hand through Gabriel's locks and making his way to the Pantheon. He was nearly run through with at least twenty angel blades that were stopped in their tracks by Michael's heavy broadsword. The Morning Star didn't even notice and if he did, kept the comments to himself. It was a miracle he didn't trip over any of the discarded weapons on the ground but then again, he always was the graceful one. Just like Gabriel was the loud, obnoxious clumsy one. Everything balanced out in the end.

Well, except for the fact that young Castiel looked like he was about to hug Gabriel or try and kill him. That was relatively new.

**The reason Gabriel jumped in the cage was because he knew what Lucifer would try and do. That and Michael and Lucifer are stubborn bastards who don't know when to quit. Give them a reason to stop, like a little brother that they hopefully wouldn't kill, and eventually they'll give up. The cards thing was just for my own amusement and the pool was so Gabe could talk to Adam without anyone noticing. Gabriel brought the horn as an escape plan since he knew they would be needed in Heaven.**


	12. Awkward

**I'm back and I'm swamped. ISU's and exams coming up so less time for writing until that's over. Sorry! Still, extra chapter to anyone who reviews. It can be for the prequel or something completely irrelevant. **

**Disclaimer: Nope. The mailman hasn't brought the contract for SPN, so I don't own it.**

Chapter Twelve: Pictures

Castiel wasn't sure what to feel. His brother had left him not once, not twice but three times the past two thousand years. Each time it was like a piece of him left with Gabriel and it was probably because they were bound. Not quite like the archangels were, with Raphael going insane and Michael ready to snap. Maybe more of there was this feeling that he was missing something in his life, something important and irreplaceable. Bound by grace as all fledglings and their mentors were, he would definitely know the basics of where Gabriel was and it wasn't by any means definitive. For example, a few seconds ago, his mentor was in the Cage centered in Hell. Now he was being carried like a twenty pound baby up the Pantheon steps by Lucifer himself and snoring like an inebriated human. Odd thing to picture but nonetheless true.

Swallowing hard and wondering if he could face up to his brother once again, Castiel was surprised when Lucifer passed him and murmured, "Would you forgive me for my hatred, angel of Thursday? I know that my actions have condemned me beyond many of our brother's and sister's capability to live and let die but if it helps, Gabriel and Michael didn't kill me as we flew here. Can you let the past go?"

Could he? This was the proud Morning Star, by all appearances over his brief upset and calmly blinking at one of the youngest angels in Heaven asking for forgiveness. The one thing he had no right to give. It hadn't been him to witness the loss of many elder brothers or harshly fight back tears while slaughtering divine beings who made their choice, yet loved them anyways. It hadn't been him to push one of his closest brethren into a hole leading to the most boring place on earth. Also, it hadn't been him to film _Casa Erotica,_ which was unfortunately a title fashioned from a part of his name. He really didn't need to see his brother bend that way or _any_ way. In fact, Castiel was pretty sure he couldn't even look at his brother without thinking of that 'message'. So this is how Sam must have felt…

Lucifer was still watching him only now, there was a strange light in his eyes. Before he could ask, the former devil stated, "I didn't need to see that. Excuse me while I bleach my brain and scream in agony. Sweet mother Mary, that was scarring! Little one, do you think Balthazar would, you know, erase that image for you? Because you were broadcasting and now everyone in your garrison is feeling very awkward."

There were no words to describe how embarrassed he was right now. Pinching the bridge of his nose, Castiel apologized to his wailing brothers(and sister) before seeking out the angel of happy memories. God willing, this would soon fade and he could go on with his life. The slightest poke of his grace made Castiel jump, then relax when he realized it was Gabriel. Of course, then he tensed again. He was supposed to be extremely angry at the archangel for doing something stupid yet again. But…the happy little smile on his mentor's face made him hesitate. He had never seen Gabriel look truly happy unless he was causing someone else's misery. Right now, though, Castiel couldn't help but soften and watch him beam brilliantly to anyone who looked. The brush of grace turned into a full-on hug as the memories of that unfortunate video disappeared. He never could stay mad at his childish brother anyways.

Sighing softly, he murmured, "Gabriel, you must stop doing this. I realize that you have a different lifestyle than when you left me here but please, I'm begging you, _do not leave me like that again._ I didn't even know you were alive until Dean managed to speak again and that was a week after you and Sam…" stopping, he mumbled under his breath and turned to Lucifer. "Yes, brother, I forgive you although it doesn't count for much."

Staring at him in amazement, Lucifer stated, "I can't believe you grew up normal, fledgling. Look at Gabriel! Heck, _Michael_ raised him and see what he turned into? If I didn't know any better, I'd say Father gave him the sense of a rock. Which is to say, none at all. How did you do it?"

"It's nothing short of a miracle."

"Hey!" shouted Gabriel petulantly. Sticking out his lower lip, he stated, "I'll have you know that while my mind may be long gone, at least it got good exercise. Last I heard of it, he was running away screaming. Not sure why, though. What were we talking about again?"

Snorting, Lucifer deadpanned, "Case in point. The sooner I get this idiot to bed, the sooner we can shut his mouth. It's like he never shuts up!" Turning to Michael, who had finally caught up, he asked, "Do you remember when he first became an archangel and how he wouldn't stop speaking to Father? I'll admit, it's amazing He didn't go into a trance just to escape from it. As it was, after Gabriel finally fell asleep we all had to go take a little vacation in the gardens. Wait…I think he planned that all along! How he smirked when we saw us swimming in the pool."

Michael looked thoughtful. Both of them were ignoring Castiel and Gabriel, who was making funny faces at his former fledgling and causing him to give into the urge to do his characteristic head-tilt. Laughing softly, the archangel tilted his head the opposite way to keep it interesting and made the fish face. Popping his lips and flapping his hands up and down across his cheeks, Castiel simply sighed and realized that the anger he had felt was now gone. How curious. It seemed as if the childish exchange actually made him feel better. Meanwhile, Michael and Lucifer were finally starting to realize just what Gabriel had meant by saying, 'Heaven wouldn't be the same without me.' The rock-brained idiot had actually helped de-stress Michael and made Lucifer just a tad bit warmer. Raphael was Raphael and didn't really change either way, other than becoming more annoyed. At least he had an outlet for his anger, though.

Speaking of said archangel, he was currently hurrying towards them with a delighted smile across his face. It was actually quite terrifying if you knew him. Gabriel literally screamed in terror and dove behind Lucifer to use as a 'human' shield. Even Michael cowered back slightly at the sight of that toothy grin. Lucifer didn't move but his eyes flickered around desperately, looking for a place to hide. Castiel, who had never seen his strictest brother smile, decided he would've liked it to stay that way. He ducked behind Gabriel. Now Raphael wasn't just smiling, because that in of itself isn't all too terrifying. It was the minor fact that he was covered in blood that was recognizably angelic that made Gabriel shriek like a little girl. That, and since when was Raphael in a good mood? Michael finally took the initiative to murmur, "Well, brother. I don't think I've ever seen you in a mood like this before."

"Make it stop!" wailed Gabriel. He was beyond terrified, no matter how much laughter was building up in his chest. Castiel, who's ear was right beside the big baby's big mouth, promptly poked him in the stomach and watched in satisfaction as Gabriel instantly slumped against his shoulder. Thankfully he wasn't snoring yet. The other archangels were open-mouthed in disbelief as their brother slept peacefully, slowly crushing Castiel with his wings when they moved to envelope the closest thing to him. Eyes wide, he instantly thought of the discovery program that Sam had forced him to watch with the Boa Constrictor who ate the buffalo whole. Michael appeared to take pity on him. Crouching down, the all-powerful Commander of Heaven's armies reached towards Gabriel and started to tickled his wings. It looked incredibly amusing, to say the least. Castiel believed many women would be cooing at the sight, especially when Gabriel finally let go of his gasping fledgling and held his arms out childishly for Michael to pick him up.

In short, utterly adorable.

Lucifer ruined it by murmuring, "Wow. He's an even bigger baby than before I left."

'Before he left' was one way of putting it. 'Scarring-the-entire-world-not-to-mention-his-family' was another. The Morning Star had been consumed by self-righteous anger against beings who didn't mean anyone harm. It was different now, since there were hunters who knew everything that went bump in the night or had their fun if plain daylight. Humans weren't as innocent as they used to be and it was obvious to everyone that Lucifer had finally realized what he had done. The way he stayed as close to his brothers as possible attested to that. Right now, Michael was a constant on his right-hand side with Raphael flanking the other. Gabriel was knocked out and cradled in the Commander's arms like the baby archangel he was, ironically changing into a younger form to suit the situation. The family was complete again thanks to two of the humans that Lucifer despised the most.

As Dean would say, it was a chick-flick moment.

If Gabriel had a cue, he couldn't of timed his awakening better. His eyes snapped open just before another comment could be made about him being the biggest baby in Heaven. There was absolutely no doubt he _was_ very capable of childishness. However, there was always this knowing glint in his eyes that just screamed '_I know something you don't know, and I'm not telling'. _Not only did this annoy the heck out of Castiel, it also frightened him. What if his brother had seen everything that had happened in their peaceful home? The look he sent didn't look particularly amused. That was a very bad thing, considering it's Gabriel. When is he ever serious? Apparently now, since his wings constricted in a vice around Castiel as his grace held the former fledgling in place. "What have you been up to, Cas? What don't you want me to know? Other than the fact you are a little too comfortable with dying."

This was awkward… "Sam got his soul back after Dean played Death for a day. He had to-"

"Kill a little girl. And he couldn't because even though it was her time to go, Dean Winchester tried to do the 'noble thing' and in doing said 'noble thing', put the universe out of whack. People died who weren't supposed to. Innocent people all died for the life of one girl who only have burdened her parents with hope of a good life for her when in reality, she was long dead. So Dean went back to kill her after a nice woman died after taking off Death's ring and breaking the deal. Meanwhile, what you _didn't _see was Sam trying to kill Bobby for his blood to break the deal Dean made with Death only to be trapped in a big dog cage made of titanium. He escaped, they had a heart to heart and I planned for this all along so Sam would get his soul back when Dean failed to kill the little girl. Does that sound about right to you? O, and Balthazar, I know you're right behind me and when I get my hands on you, you frickin pain in my ass-"

Yup. Gabriel was definitely still Gabriel. As he chased Balthazar around Heaven, holding back laughter and glowing brightly, it was hard to imagine that seconds before he was telling the story of multiple deaths and how they could have been prevented by one little girl dying without showing a hint of remorse. The archangel stopped to look at him and said, "What? I'm not heartless. Tell Dean-o your welcome for digging up Sammy's soul. By the way, that little girl? Ariella and I made a deal a while back. She's fine. I'm not the angel of resurrection for nothing, you know. "

Actually, he didn't know. After all the centuries he'd known Gabriel it had apparently never crossed his mind to tell him just what he was the angel of. Guess it was a bit of a learn-as-you-go-along type thing.

**Finito! Not the story, the chapter. Bye, readers! See you when my ISU's are finished!**


	13. Lose it while you Can

**So, people, my cat died a few weeks ago. I was too depressed to write much, but I updated my HP fic and finally found the incentive to watch 'like a virgin'. Now Gabriel is back and there will be more Cas/Gabe fluff. Hopefully. If I remember…**

**Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural any more than I do the cure for cancer. Which is unfortunate.**

Chapter Thirteen: Lose It While You Can

As it turns out, the reason for Gabriel's dearest(most insane) brother being covered in angel blood was actually a pretty good one. It would appear that Raphael was getting back into the swing of things, meaning not decapitating some poor sod just because his tart accidentally fell onto his new Armani suit. Raphael was giving up the fine art of smiting and returning to his old occupation of healing. Starting with the same poor sod who decided to bring said tart into Heaven in the first place. Balthazar, sporting a huffy pout and steaming slightly from the rear, was led into the Pantheon after being chased down by an angered archangel and laughing cherubs pointing and laughing at his unfortunate, well, end. How he got the tart in the first place was a mystery that no one asked, but at least Gabriel got something out of it. The tart was delicious, by the way. Apple and cinnamon, with a hint of brown sugar.

Trying to get the last bit of stickiness off the tip of his nose, you can imagine his shock when the angel who went into the great hall of stone made his way out alive. With Raphael on a streak, there was no telling what might happen. This was apparently one of the better times and completely unlike the smiting phase he had gone through recently. At least he didn't have to hunt for one of his old hiding spots. Smiling cheerfully, Gabriel flew over casually and 'accidentally' kicked Balthazar in the ass. To say he wasn't happy was an understatement but to get back at an archangel was practically begging for another trip to Dr. Raphael. Needless to say, he was proud of his payback and of the rebuilding his little fledgling was coordinating in his stead. Gabriel never was one for architecture. Or painting. Anything that involved work, really. Then again, that was _before _he went all martyr and joined the bloody freakin' Winchesters. Now he _really _knew the meaning of work.

Hell, it was a war just trying to get them out of bed in the morning!

Recalling the happy and slightly violent sleeping patterns of the boys, he grimaced. Their vacation was coming to an end very, very soon. Either by hook, arrow, claw, tooth or…_fairy _dust, those knuckleheads were getting back to normal too. Well, they would as soon as Sam finally rolled his lazy ass out of bed. He would wake up. Gabriel hadn't gone to all that trouble just to have Death comatose the boy. Absently checking on the eedjit, he froze and started walking faster, muttering, "Of _course _he would make me do everything in this deal. No, getting his soul back and nearly turning us all inside-out wasn't enough for him. Instead, he turns Dean into an intern and just shoves a soul into one of the weaker chakra points so we can watch him explode. Thanks a bunch!"

Finding Castiel watching him with that annoying intensity, Gabriel brightened and wrapped an arm around his fledgling's shoulders. "Cassie! My dearest baby brother, who we are all in awe of, by the way, whom I love ever so dearly! Would you mind not trying to kill me after I tell you this?" When Castiel opened his mouth to say 'no', he just kept on going. "Awesome! Well, you know how I just got Sam's soul back?" All at once, he remembered that his darling brother hadn't known and was likely to gut him in the next three seconds if he didn't continue. "Never mind. Point is, Death… _didn'. Andnowhe'sgoingtoexplodeifyoudon'tfixit. _Have fun on your playdate!"

Unfortunately, Castiel followed along better than expected and immediately grabbed a fistful of Gabriel's robes. Sighing, he allowed himself to be forcefully dragged back to the realm of misery and Bobby's home cooking with minimal complaints. While his brother stormed off, Dean and the previously wheelchair-bound Bobby were staring at him. He couldn't help but notice the worry lines decorating their faces and immediately checked his own forehead, all the while sneakily erasing the lines. You could say that he didn't care. You'd probably be right. It's just, the way Sam and Dean were with each other reminded him of Cas when he was little and not as hateful. Kind of cute, in a way. Maybe he didn't want their relationship to end like his always had.

His thoughts were interrupted by a heated conversation coming from Sam's room. Getting up, he was met with a scene that would never have come to pass in any future or the next if the situation didn't call for it. Castiel was fighting his beloved pet human, calling him selfish for wanting his brother back after having his soul all but flayed alive in the cage. Wincing, Gabriel couldn't help but shudder. Not of the memories from the cage but the ones from just outside of it. Screaming humans and that one unfortunate Titan Prometheus getting his liver ripped out repeatedly made a cacophony in his head. Suddenly, the spray of blood wasn't human. It was angel, tinted a silvery blue that glittered against the stained black chains and rocks of Hell. Gasping softly, he fell to the ground as an ancient voice flooded his ears with the feeling of tearing flesh. _Ah cooman lee, lall fuillen arshentel. Ah cooman mudderah, mefferah. _**(Come to me, little fallen archangel. Come to mother, messenger.)**

Suddenly coughing on his own silvery blood, Gabriel tried to see past the carnage to what was obscuring his visions only to find a great abyss opening up to swallow him whole. In his mind, there was no light. _Wailing, he distantly felt himself caught in a pair of familiar arms before being dragged back to the darkness. No matter how he fought to free himself, there was no light to shine through it. Words were whispered in Enochian that brought little comfort but enough strength to pull away. At once, as his mind cleared of the disorienting fog that the dark seemed to have put on his mind, Gabriel knew what he was facing. He almost laughed. He had seen this before so many times in nightmares and war that It should seem so easy to defeat. After all, God had created this evil through no fault of his own and had locked It up to protect humanity. Gabriel himself had hidden the key to It's release. Now it seemed possible that the key had been found and here he was, trapped in a vision! With one last shot, he let lose a burst of grace that made It screech and drop him._

Pain. It always seemed to be pain that he woke up to, for some reason. Gabriel felt himself being lowered onto a soft and slightly springy mattress by that same pair of arms. Fluttering his eyes a little, he looked into Castiel's baby blues and croaked, "M-mother…all" before a slightly brighter darkness took him over completely. The pain went with it.

69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69 69

_This is going to kill us all. I never should have let them try to get his soul back. If he sees… _Castiel could think only of what would happen if Sam tore down Death's barriers. As he gently opened the chakras to allow the human's soul to flow freely back into his body, he couldn't help but be angry on the boy's behalf. This soul, to put to loosely, felt like it had been quartered, smote, stabbed and run over by a truck repeatedly in the year it had been gone. Shuddering at the feel of the energy that almost seemed to weep, Castiel breathed deeply and bit his lip until it bled. After drawing his hand out as softly as he could, he cursed his brother nine ways to Hell for making him do this. Actually, it was Gabriel's fault in the first place for bringing back Sam's battered life energy. Waiting a few seconds and half hoping the soul wouldn't fit, he was actually sorry that it did.

If that wall came down…

Walking silently to the door, he barely restrained himself from slamming it shut in frustration. Castiel's anger flared when Dean waltzed into the hallway, pain and sadness embedded in his eyes. Unable to restrain himself, he hissed, "If you wanted him to suffer, congratulations. You've done it. Why didn't you outright kill him and save yourself the trouble?"

"What are you talking about, Cas?"

Shivering slightly, he growled, "Sam's soul felt like it had been flayed alive. It was all but nonexistent when Death forced it into him and the blocked chakra points only made things worse. There is still a chance he will explode. There's an even bigger possibility that he will never wake up. You are selfish, Dean Winchester, for thinking your brother could live through this ordeal. It is torture of the cruelest form. You must-"

A sudden wail cut him off. It was cold, almost evil in the way it wrapped around his heart. Gabriel. Where was he? Rushing out of the doorway, he was just in time to see the shadows wrap around his writhing brother and try to get under his skin. Castiel cried out and summoned his sword. As soon as he stepped forward, the very breath from his vessel's lungs turned to ice and it was like walking through coalesced blood. The darkness tried to enter his body. It was strong enough to just flick him out of the vessel but a weak flare of grace from the struggling Gabriel made it stop. Castiel turned to the archangel just in time to see his eyes open and turn into twin pits of onyx. The shriek that came from his lips forced the humans to the floor, yet to Castiel, it was a plea for help to the only brother who could. So he fought the shadows to his mentor's side to tear him free. Whispering in Enochian, he soothed his brother and stroked the vessel's back.

All at once, with a strangled gasp of air, Gabriel's eyes turned pure gold, making the shadows scream. They disappeared as if they had never been while his brother went completely limp against his chest. Scooping him up, he flew to the nearest couch and settled the archangel there. He was the only one close enough to hear the weak word that made it past Gabriel's lips. Glancing at Bobby, he murmured, "'Mother' and 'all'. That's what he said. Do you think it's related to any of this?"

Shrugging, the old hunter said, "Maybe. The eedjit didn't sound like 'e was faking. Let me take a look, see what I've got. You should probably ask around upstairs. Bring this idiot with you."

Glancing at the blood dripping in a lazy stream from Gabriel's eyes, mouth and nose, Castiel couldn't help but agree. If whatever was going on was powerful enough to nearly kill an archangel then he didn't stand a chance. First grabbing his brother by the back of his shoulders then sliding another arm under his knees, he heaved him up and took flight straight towards the Pantheon. It wasn't long before three anxious archangels had torn Gabriel from his arms and shoved them both towards the healing wing. Lucifer and Michael were huddled together to keep their brother warm after feeling his icy skin and lack of powerful grace, conveniently in touching distance of his golden hair. Shaking his head in confused amazement, Castiel thought, _Gabriel was right. They ARE obsessed with touching his hair._

Raphael checked him over with a trained eye and wrapped a small slice on his arm from where the blackness had touched him. Moving quickly to Gabriel, he instead closed his eyes. Reaching out to touch the deathly cool skin of his forehead, the healer furrowed his brow and murmured, "Michael, you got him the last time. Unless you want me or Lucifer to give it a go, he's locked himself up pretty tightly. It might be that you're the only possibility. Will you try?"

Nodding, the elder angel stepped closer to kneel next to Gabriel's frigid form and placed a hand on his forehead. A soft glow lit the room…and nothing happened. Huffing slightly, he made the grace more powerful only to gasp when a steady flow of blackness evaporated from the messenger's glowing skin. The three conscious archangels acted as one, raising their arms and giving a blast of grace strong enough to kill Russia, Asia and three quarters of Europe. Ever so slowly, the smoke was gone. Anything else would have been gone the second three of the four main archangels even moved their hands, glowing as they were with conjoined essence. Shortly after, Gabriel blinked open his eyes and drawled, "What? What did I mi-_hmph!"_

That was Gabriel being attacked by a former fledgling known as, of course, Castiel. Said former fledgling also very nearly kneed him in a very uncomfortable place but it was a comfort to know there weren't any guns around. He might have had to scream if there were. Especially since guns and Castiel never seem to be far away from each other. Come to think of it, every time the hunters took a potshot at him the young angel of Thursday was usually right there. Maybe this was a sign from God, or possibly another shot at 'house training' him from Raphael. Associate the Winchesters and Castiel with pain. An interesting concept, although one he was used to associating with Michael. And demons. And swords. Hmmm…well, it was associated with many things that he couldn't be bothered to remember at the moment. Should he make a list?

Pondering this, Gabriel realized it had absolutely nothing to do with the current situation, he had been thinking about it for ten minutes and his brothers were staring at him with the tilted head. A sign of confusion in any angel. Tilting his head the opposite way and grinning, he realized he wouldn't really be much help on this hunt. Michael's grace had given his own a jumpstart, just not enough to fill the void. In other words, he'd be sitting this one out. On the sidelines. A spectator. Exactly what he'd been doing for millions of years. Sheesh, this was going to be dull. Losing his grin almost as fast as it had come, he sat up and almost immediately went back down again. Nausea definitely wasn't the love of his life now or ever and her friend dizziness could just back off, because Gabriel hadn't survived a fatal stab wound(sort of) just to be put off by a little evil in his blood. Alright, so he hurled all over Mikey's feet. Big deal! He was going. As soon as the Pantheon stopped swimming. "Alright C-Cassie. Take me to the knuckleheads," he slurred drunkenly. Father, if only he'd _had _a shot or two, this might not be so bad…

Raphael took one look at him and promptly said, "Fine. If you move on your own, I will smite you. If you fly on your own, I will smite you. If you try fighting on your own with or without grace, we will all smite you. Also, if you get drunk and eat all of the pastries in some obscure café in Europe, the owners will attempt to kill you and you will puke. If you puke on Lucifer's clean robes like you did after that one Pagan feast in the old days, he will undoubtedly send you straight to purgatory. Finally, if you even think for one second about taking even the slightest glance into the future, not only will we come to earth and beat you three ways to Hell but your garrison will help us. Are we clear on these terms?…Gabriel?…_Gabriel…_oh, for the love of St. Luke, just go!"

Wiping the puppy dog eyes off of his features, the seemingly sixteen-year-old archangel turned to his littlest brother, immediately puked on Lucifer's clean robes and flew to earth. Castiel sighed and took off after him, catching up quickly and straightening his brother's flight pattern. Frankly, it's amazing he didn't just drop off when he stood up. Landing, or in Gabriel's case face-planting, in Bobby's living room, the guardian angel rubbed his forehead and pulled his brother up off the floor. Mumbling and holding his nose, there was a slight crunch as he set his nose back into position. At least there were no bullets this time. Sitting on the couch, he started falling asleep watching Castiel's pitiful attempt at giving the human, this time complete with a _soul, _Sam a hug. It was painful to watch, yet so adorable. Then he started telling Sam everything he needed to tear down the wall. The Fates seemed to hate him at the moment. For example, by breaking that wall down Sam could cause irreversible brain damage, which although Gabriel was positive he already had, would only make it worse.

Imagining a brain dead Sam but unable to muster the strength to get up, he instead politely asked one of his hounds to give Castiel a friendly bite on the keister. The way this day was going right now could only get worse. As usual, he was proved right. Not only did the hound not come, Castiel proceeded to tell the kid everything he had done sans soul. Including nearly separating Bobby's head from his body. Trying to come up with something to get this horrible scene over with, he chuckled awkwardly, "Well, this is…great. Cas, you've done a wonderful job of ruining any possibility the kid has of living sanely while simultaneously making me break one of Rafe's rules. I'd watch out for a colorful lightning bolt anytime now…" Needless to say, it didn't work. Oi vay. The smiting rule apparently didn't apply, either. Darn.

After that, it was one suck-ish turnout after another. Not only were the missing chicks, um, _missing, _they were also virgins. _Virgins! _There were so many monsters out there that go for them that it's barely worth looking up anymore. No un-pure woman was taken and there weren't any men thrown in for good measure, since monsters usually don't care much for a gender. In fact, there was only one thing other than eating that creepy crawlies used female virgins for. For such a safe choice, it sure was dangerous. Who knew waiting for the big date would kill you? Lose it while you can, or become a human sacrifice. What exactly the sacrifice was made to, Gabriel hoped to Father he was wrong. There was such a small chance that they had gotten to It that it wasn't even worth mentioning. That and the possibilities the pure girls could be used for made him shiver. An unfortunate series of events that could cause a world worse than the Apocalypse and Ke$ha's singing combined. Still, it's probably not going to happen so it was best to go on with their lives. Gabriel didn't want to ruin this slightly-better-than-evisceration scenario.

Lying on the couch with what he hoped was a spring digging into his back, the archangel listened in on future wavelengths. Smirking slightly at the sight of the endless sewers, it froze when the sight of gold glimmered in one of the corners. No…

No. It couldn't…they couldn't have…

Apparently, they could. Almost whimpering from the ever growing possibility of what he'd hoped would never happen, Gabriel groped blindly for the phone and called Dean's cell. "Bobby?"

"Listen, Dean. What you've found might just spell the end for hunters and humans everywhere. If I'm right, and for once I hope not, this could be the worst event since the Giant's War. Please, kid, I'm begging you, be careful. Because whatever came looking for me was really searching for you. There isn't much I can say until Bobby get's back to me on the research but if it' true, pray to God that my brothers agree to fight for humanity. After this, there are much, much more dangerous things that could escape…and I probably just jinxed it. Shit! Anyways, can you stop and get me something to eat on your way back? Bobby made soup and his fork is standing up in it. That isn't a good sign, Dean-o."

"…Gabriel, what the hell are yo-"

Hanging up before Dean could make his headache any worse than it already was, the archangel sighed and resisted the urge to summon something to eat from pre-Nero Rome. After glumly staring at the soup which, no kidding, had a fork standing stock still right in the middle of the bowl, he set it down gingerly and slid it across the floor. Gabriel didn't want to look at it any more than he already had. The stuff might be radioactive! Suddenly, from the kitchens, he heard the words he'd been dreading.

"Dragons? They don't exist, as far as I can figure. Why? Is there a sudden overpopulation of Dwarves?"

Okay, the first word. 'Dragons'. From the sounds of it, the 'Ye Olden and Not-So-Golden' days were making a comeback. Goody. Moaning despairingly, Gabriel fell back on the thrice-damned spring and relished the distraction from the growing agony in his head. Breathing deeply and almost in a state of meditation, he felt out for Dean and found him speaking to Bobby on the phone. Huh. Hadn't even realized the phone call twenty minutes after the first. Apparently there _was_, in fact, someone who could tell them how to kill a Dragon. A very old, very powerful Dragon that wouldn't be taken down with cheap mints or hell, even a regular sword. No, it had to be forged with Dragon's blood. It was official. This whole week? Sucks.

Dean did find the blade, stuck in stone like Excalibur and not kingly enough to drag it from the rock. So what did he do? C4 is the solution to life's problems, if you happen to be a hunter or miner. Too bad he screwed it up. Wincing, Gabriel thought sympathetically, _She totally doesn't have insurance on that thing._ Sure enough, the expression on her face was like someone had just run over a puppy with a train. Shocked, horrified and unable to look away from the mess. When Dean pulled the hilt from the pulverized stone, he was pretty sure Bobby was never going to hear from this lady caller again. _EVER._ It was okay though. It meant that whatever was happening could ultimately be blamed entirely on one person. No need to share the blame when one person to point at was perfectly enough.

Amazingly, they didn't completely screw up. The subway tunnels took hours to search and when they found the pile of golden trinkets that…oh, he probably could have told them where to go. That totally would have saved time. Anywho, they found two dragons and after a lot of ass kicking that wasn't at all one sided, meaning the Dragons were winning, Sammy stabbed one of them in the back while the other one ran. All in all, a happily ever after. Not. Since when did any of the Winchester's life stories have a happy ending? No, because there was more than just two Dragons. There were three. As Gabriel watched in his visions, surrounded by knuckleheads celebrating the release of around fifteen young and pure girls, one pretty little slip of a teenager was shoved into purgatory and met with open mouths. Barely hearing the words Bobby was reading from the human-hide book the boys had retrieved, he croaked out before Singer could even think it. "Mother. Mother of all. Lady of Eden and biggest witch of all time. Eve."

God. Oh, God our almighty Father, this was going to end badly.

They were all going to die.

Breathing heavily, he wailed, "_LEVIATHAN!"_

Soon, they would come. The mother of monsters had been freed at last and Purgatory lay open for all to see. None could escape, not yet, but soon. Soon another great war would be upon the archangels, one that this time they might not be able to win. All that they were waiting for was a host. Gabriel could feel it, the calling from ancient throats in the language of death and decay, of evil. Pure evil and insanity. Waiting…longing…hungry.

The Leviathans were awakening. And there was nothing he could do.

**4, 138 words, people! When I make it up to people, I really make it up to people. You might realize that the scenes are a little out of order, but I watched the episode yesterday on the net so I can't remember it all. Plus, incorporating Gabriel in this chapter turned out to be a real bitch. To kill, or to incapacitate. That was the choice. Obviously, I didn't want to kill him again so he was laid up a bit for this one. REVIEW!**


	14. Silent

**Hey, readers! I'm at my grandma's house in London, Ontario. The bad part? No internet connection. Whoopee. No cable, either. Feels kind of like I'm living in a cave. Well, without further ado, I present…**

**Disclaimer: Not what I was going to present, but I don't own SPN other than the alive archangels.**

Chapter Fourteen: Silent

For the next week after the dragons opened Purgatory, Gabriel did…nothing. Absolutely nothing. He didn't speak, didn't eat and Sam was pretty sure he didn't blink. Whatever a Leviathan was had scared him into becoming a complete mute. Not even chocolate had made him twitch an eye and that's when you know it's bad. There was this hopelessness about him now that nobody had ever seen, something that terrified Castiel into meditating on a blowup bed beside the couch his brother was sitting on. He never even looked at the book that Sam and Dean had found in a dug-out shelf in the sewers surrounded by candles, almost religiously placed right in the centre. Why should he? What those boys didn't know was that Gabriel had been the one to bind that book with the hide of a human child, the only thing that would hold the ancient spells. They didn't know that the girl had screamed and cried while her family cried tears of joy to be able to assist the Lord Almighty at the price of their youngest daughter.

They would never know.

For seven days and nights Gabriel sat and remembered what he had done to 'protect' humanity from becoming little more than cattle. Whimpering silently, he slowly reached out to stroke his little brother's hidden wings and sighed softly at the softness beneath his fingertips. Ignoring the startled look from Castiel, he let himself picture a tiny seven year old girl with bright green eyes and ivory skin. Yes, her name was Anamwe. Ancient tongue for Ivy. She had been very strong, not even screaming until her guts spilled all over the mossy forest floor. Stronger than he had ever been. Tightening his grip on Castiel's wings, he let the tears fall as shining stars and ignored the black roses now growing from the floor. Grace was creation, not destruction, yet a being of grace could destroy galaxies if God commanded it. The thoughts that would forever be his nightmare were interrupted by the slightest touch on his cheek. Eyes flickering to the disturbance, Gabriel realized his fledgling turned guardian was trying to dry his tears like he had done millennia ago.

Lips twitching slightly upward, he let his eyes flick to a pure and shimmering gold that banished the shadows he hadn't even realized were there. Snapping his fingers and summoning one of those massive Hershey bars, Gabriel brought the text that Bobby was still working on with a flick of his wrist. Turning to the first page and waiting until the knuckleheads were standing in the doorway to gawk at him, he read.

"To the one who finds this, just know that the evil you hold now in your hands is more powerful than many angels who live in Heaven. Made by grace and twisted by evil, creatures that are now found only in this book are never to be summoned by pain of death. These spells shall never be spoken out loud for fear of those old and powerful beings to once again rise. Again, to the one that finds this; _do not say these words out loud. _Read if you must and translate if you can but don't forget the loss of humanity that comes with these words. I have bound this book with the blood of God, the skin of an innocent and the flesh of an Ancient. If this spell is ever to be undone, you, whoever is reading this, must rebind it. Robert Singer, you must do this for the sake of this world. Then summon me. This language is Old Enochian, something even Castiel cannot begin to comprehend. Find me and I will undo this wrong. And your mother lied. You will not go to Hell.

Archangel Gabriel, Strength of God and His holy messenger, Slayer of Eve and Binder of the Leviathan."

Closing the book, said archangel looked them in the eyes with his golden gaze and stated, "Looks like I was wrong, huh? You won't need to summon me after all and I don't have to kill your wife to rebind the book. Just know that what has been let loose is just the beginning, not nearly as powerful as the Soul Eaters. Hell, the bitch barely managed to singe my robes! There is a story behind this but it's one that's definitely not fit for bedtime. Seriously. It's one in the morning. Go to sleep! I have things to do."

Typically, they didn't move. Bobby actually stepped forward to snatch the book from his hands, at the same time leveling a shotgun to his head. Gabriel actually smirked. The man clicked back the safety threateningly and muttered, "What do you know about that? My wife is dead already, you woulda seen that but you didn't. Something 'bout the Leviathans scares the shit outta you an' yer hiding it. Don't let me stop you from sharing with the rest of the damned class."

_He's sharp, for an old man, _thought Gabriel with a hint of sadness. Why did he have to see past the cutesy little lie that in no way would harm anyone? The more he looked at it, the more likely it would become less a reality and more a gory horror film. Truth was a bitch that way. To tell or not to tell, as Hamlet once said. Wait, that's wrong. He never was one for Shakespeare. Staring up at Bobby and completely ignoring the gun pointed between his eyes, Gabriel said darkly, "You have no idea what you're asking, human. What I'm hiding is older than this planet and more painful than any torture Alistair could come up with. This secret would crush you and make sure you're surrounded by pretty white walls for the rest of human existence, which wouldn't be long if I revealed it. As for not seeing your wife dying? The future is relative, always shifting and changing while branching off into completely different realities. Concentrating on one is just stupid so I look for the worst case scenarios. Hate to break it to you, Singer, but your girl dying was the lesser of all the evils."

There was pain as well as anger coating the archangel's heated words. Castiel brushed the gun aside to kneel face-to-face with his brother and staring intently into the golden depths, he slowly placed two fingers against Gabriel's forehead. When he wasn't smote or sent into some other dimension, the young angel slowly brushed his grace along the edges of the messenger's mind. He didn't try to find the secret that was being hidden since by all accounts, it would definitely kill him. Instead, Castiel went for what Gabriel had seen when the blackness attacked him. There wasn't anything to block the experience and Castiel found his brother's mind almost completely open for him to search. Bringing the memory to the forefront, his brother shivered slightly as the icy feeling of not being in control of his own memories enveloped him. Still, he was allowed to look and feel the attack through Gabriel's perspective.

Once he was finished with the memory, Castiel pushed it as far as he could into the back of the archangel's mind and sat next to him on the couch to wrap a wing around him. In return, Gabriel flashed his eyes again to show him a girl. With bright green eyes and skin like ivory who didn't scream until she was almost dead. Anamwe. Ivy. Pure and sweet and beautiful. He didn't even blink as the images flashed behind his eyes, only sighed sadly at the loss. Sam and Dean looked confused when he finally turned to them and announced, "He is telling the truth. If whatever Gabriel isn't telling us makes a space that dark on his memories it is not worth being corrupted over. Leave him be."

He didn't know whether or not to be grateful or ashamed. In the end, he settled for both. Grateful to Castiel for the minor diversion which would only last until he left for Heaven and ashamed of himself for showing that much of his true emotions. Sighing heavily, Gabriel shoved the last piece of chocolate into his mouth and promptly decided to get on with his life. So what if it only lasted another month or so? There was always a possibility that the archangels could fight together against the Leviathans and win. A very teeny-weeny little chance that the whole of humanity would survive another few centuries. Looking on the bright side only set the death date to a place further back in his mind but it helped. Anamwe was dead and gone, as were the other humans sacrificed for specific purposes that won't be spoken of since they aren't really relevant. _Come to think of it, none of this is really relevant to the situation…_thought Gabriel amusedly.

Huh. It's hard to be depressed, especially for someone who literally can't sit still for more than five minutes. His brothers were probably holding a timer right now and betting on how long this could go on for. Absently flicking his eyes from the dreary walls to the more exciting door leading outside, the archangel snapped his fingers and turned the house…neon purple. Then green, red, blue and yellow. All of the brightest and most interesting colors were all flashing in Bobby's living room, complete with seventy's disco music. He'd thought about turning it into a strip club then realized it would probably give the old man a heart attack, so he left the idea and turned it into…heck, he didn't really know. It was all well and good when he planned it in his head, but in real life? Tilting his head nonchalantly to the side to see from a different angle, he ignored the shouts and threats from the owner of the almost strip club and focused on getting the colors _just _right.

Upon hearing the trigger being pulled, he blurred his movements and instead of his skull, the bullet hit a picture frame. One of Bobby and his wife, the only one that he had kept. There was guilt now as he watched the broken glass fall and the picture turn into nothing more than a broken dream. Feeling strangely sympathetic for the quiet, gruff man who looked like he wanted nothing more than to disappear for a century, Gabriel flicked his wrist and did something so nauseatingly nice that even Castiel wouldn't have believed it. Forgetting all about the colors, he instead made it look exactly the way it had before the woman of the house met her untimely end. Light shining through the window didn't make the house more depressing by showing off the state of it and instead glittered on the pain that was no longer chipped and faded. The photograph of the Singers before Hunting became a lifestyle instead of a hobby was in one piece again, hanging beautifully on the wall in the kitchen. Hell, even the thrice-damned couch lost most of its hideousness. Not to mention the spring…

As for a finale, why not make one of the old hunter's dreams become a reality? Concentrating hard and yet again ignoring the annoying voices asking extremely stupid questions, he murmured, "I'm feeling generous today, Singer. Tell you what. If you stop trying to shoot me with that shotgun loaded with buckshot, I'll let you say goodbye to your wife like you always wanted. Knuckleheads, it might not be possible for me to drag back Mamma Winchester but the old coot might be able to make a short visit. If we're all going to die then at least we'll die in peace, right? _Saewa amendaiu rictorus, dorska im opella. Cooman am arshentel mefferah. _John Marvin Winchester. Seriously, Marvin? Lenore Risa Coppet-Singer."

Nothing happened. "Really? Alright, one question. Did you idiots already make peace with your family?" When they all nodded cautiously, Gabriel exploded. "Well that's just great! Try to do a good deed for once in my life and this is what I get. A peaceful reunion before I even thought to give you one. That's it, I'm summoning Dean's goldfish. Will that make you feel better?…wait. Samantha, your girl Jessica. You never said goodbye to her and she's the reason you're still hunting. She still haunting you, huh kiddo?" Sam didn't answer, so he knew he'd hit a sore spot. "Look, Sam. I'm sorry she died and under normal circumstances I could bring her back but, well, it's been to long and her spirit won't reconnect with her body. I might be able to summon her, though. Wanna give it a shot?"

As it turns out, Sam _did _want to see his almost wife again. After a couple of years and hundreds of hunts he still hadn't forgotten her. It was sweet, in a masochistic kind of way. This ritual would be different from the one he had tried earlier in the small matter of giving Jessica corporeal form, which involved a small amount of blood that unfortunately would have to be his. Yay. Taking a deep breath as the knuckleheads lit candles in a pentagram, Gabriel giggled, "Listen to what I say so you can do this one day. Hey, that rhymed! Okay, here goes. _Amon repentei tronfer, erean vistidi y'elysia harinier tartaruse. _Okay, ah, Jessica Louise Greer."

At once, a swirling mist began circling the room. As soon as Gabriel slit his wrist it started taking form into a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty that seemed more Dean's type than Sam's. The wound closed up quickly as the youngest Winchester fell to his knees in front of the apparition with tears in his eyes. Stuttering, he started, "J-Jess? I'm sorry. So, so sorry that you were-"

The idiot's rambling was cut off by the sweet Jessica's lips brushing against his in a way that wasn't in any universe rated T. Mildly disgusted and slightly amazed at how long they'd been lip-locked, Gabriel summoned a stop watch and made it to two whole minutes before the temporarily reunited couple separated themselves. He was kind of starting to regret making her a semi solid form now with all of the touching and feeling. Clapping sarcastically, he was silenced by the icy glare that reminded him so much of Michael he actually checked to make sure his ass wasn't on fire. With one last sweet kiss, she breathed, "I forgive you, baby. I always have and always will. Now go kill some demons for me."

Then she was gone, finally at peace now that Gabriel had dragged her from where Azazel had put her.

Ignoring the Winchester brothers having a quiet heart-to-heart on the matter of love, the archangel turned to Castiel and drawled, "You know, it was sort of like watching a really bad porno. The kissing was sloppy, she's dead and Sam cheated on her so many times now it isn't worth mentioning."

And so ended Castiel's week of silence. God, he would miss it.

**Like it? Just thought I'd put something in here to show just how much that fight hurt the angels and also, the language is made up. I'll put the translations underneath this note. Anyways, I didn't like the way that Sam never said goodbye to Jess** **and since he doesn't remember his mom, Jess is the reason he's still hunting. Her and Dean. Sooooo, bye for now, readers!**

_**Saewa amendaiu rictorus, dorska im opella. Cooman am arshentel mefferah **__- souls of the dark, damned and oppressed, come to the archangel messenger._

_**Amon repentei tronfer, erean vistidi y'asphodel harinier tartaruse **_- _one who repents, beautiful is elysia from Tartarus. _Basically, Azazel put her in Tartarus and Gabriel dragged her up to put her in Elysia.


	15. Sing Me a Lullaby

**So, dear readers, you're probably about to kill me and the only reason I haven't written another chapter yet was because I haven't gotten around to watching the episode. In any case, I'm making this up as I go along and the next chapter is going to be based on the next episode. Read on, babes!**

**Disclaimer: If I had made Supernatural, there's no way in…uh, Hell, that Bobby would have died.**

Chapter Fifteen: Sing Me a Lullaby

Just three days had passed since Gabriel started to speak again even though, God willing, they would much rather have the joys of silence. Unfortunately for them, God was currently laughing his ass off in a bar just outside of Kentucky and wasn't feeling much like causing miracles right at that moment. So, they would have to make due. The one good thing was that they'd found another case. Although, it wasn't really so much of a good thing since it was _so damn far away._ From Nebraska, they were going to have to go all the way to California. About twenty-two hours, give or take. Now, since Gabriel was quite fond of the general laziness of sleeping he wasn't all that pleased and decided to fly them there instead.

Not.

Gabriel tried. He cried, nearly screamed and was so close to getting down on his hands and knees to beg it wasn't funny. Needless to say, Dean's unhealthy attachment to his car outweighed an archangel's begging and so into the car they went. Heck, the case they were supposedly working wasn't even rock solid. It was 'supposedly' because _he-llo, _California! Girls in bikinis, rubbing suntan lotion on their perfectly curved bodies and just waiting for someone to-_come to think of it, why AM I objecting?_ Half-naked women, possible completely naked women later on? Smiling hugely at the thought, Gabriel searched through the newspaper articles Sam had slapped against his chest on his miserable journey to the Impala. After all, what was the point of flying to Cali if there was nobody to play wingman for you? Or at least that's what he kept telling himself throughout the night as the knuckleheads drove on.

The case they were working right now was actually called in by one of Bobby's many shady friends in the grapevine, one who lived and breathed the beach bunnies at Huntington Beach. He said there had been unusual reports of drowning in a cove not too far off from shore. These were people who knew how to swim and where to go to avoid an undertow, so it wasn't likely they had simply gotten a cramp and sunk. The attacks were completely random and ranged from a nineteen-year-old and a seventy year-old with the only thing in common being water. Dumb and dumber up front had actually asked him what he thought was killing them.

_Well, gee. Let me think for a second…_

Sighing, Gabriel smacked his head against the front seat and grated out, "Sammy, it could be anything from an anaconda to a water nymph. Do you really expect me to know right away? I'm psychic, not omnipresent! I can't be everywhere at once! Although if you let me fly us there, I could already be in California sipping from a coconut and having sex with a-"

"O-kay," Dean interrupted with a slightly disturbed face. It was awesome as hell when he talked about his sex life but hearing someone else's? Different concept. "How about you don't finish that sentence and narrow down our list of baddies before we go in there half…armed. Half armed." He had been about to say cocked. Not exactly the best idea right now.

Raising a knowing eyebrow, the archangel just gave a sly wink and turned back to the news article. Suddenly squinting, he squealed happily, "Look, knuckleheads! There's a pod of dolphins in the cove!"

Dean just tightened his hands on the wheel and counted to twenty while Sam leaned back and brought up a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose. Gabriel was like a child in the worst ways. Short attention span, easily excitable and threw tantrums often. He was starting to regret not calling Castiel's feathered ass back from wherever he went when not with them on hunts, since he seemed to be the only one 'entertaining' enough for the big baby. It shamed him to admit that he couldn't handle one fully-grown angel but it was true. Only the other archangels could even begin to comprehend the birdbrain and sometimes, if he was very perceptive Castiel could anticipate what he was going to do next. Unfortunately, they had neither the archangels or Castiel so life went on.

By the time they were out of the car, which was almost noon the next day, it was pretty safe to say the boys were regretting refusing Gabriel's offer of flight. Beyond the likelihood he would have dropped them and misplaced their bodies somewhere over Salt Lake City, it definitely would have been more pleasant. As it was, Sam looked as if he were about to blow chunks and Dean had this…peculiar look on his face. One that stated unspeakable mental horrors that were repeatedly being relived in his head in a loop that would never end. Gabriel? Well, Gabriel was smiling like a maniac and getting a girl's number.

Her name was Sasha, if you must know.

After finding a cheap, crummy hotel-rather, _motel _room for the price of a pack of Skittles, they settled in with the cockroaches and mice for a good old fashioned cookout. If micro waved beans from a can count as a cookout. Poking glumly at his suspiciously colored slop, he deadpanned, "Alright, I'm admitting defeat. Either one of these beans just moved or a cockroach has just decided to be my dinner date for the evening. It doesn't matter since I'm not eating it," and he put the bowl on the floor.

Sadly, in two minutes it was crawling with bugs, mice and this strange creature that looked peculiarly like a two-foot walrus without tusks. It might have been less scary that way, but never-the-less, the knuckleheads took one look at the veritable orgy currently partying in the bowl and decided after much gagging to dump the bowls in a toxic waste facility. It would fit in much better there, with it's own kind. The diner they found was very nice and even let them borrow their incinerator. Turns out, that strange creature? Not a walrus. Especially after it took a chunk out of Gabriel's leg. It's all well and good until the archangel brings out a machine gun. Thankfully, the only thing harmed was the not-walrus and the motel room. At least they were staying in a super-8 now.

By eleven o'clock, Sam was burning his retinas staring at his laptop screen while Dean leafed casually through a book on mythology. Gabriel was chatting mentally with his garrison and waiting for Castiel to check in on them after no doubt hearing Dean's fervent prayers to get to Earth. All in all, it was an extremely boring time for the archangel. So bad that Michael himself took a vessel just to bring his brother to an amusement park for fear of what might happen if he didn't intervene. Therefore, the boys studied while Heaven's greatest commander played peacekeeper/babysitter/warden/sanitarium worker in order to keep the Universe in shape. And not the shape of a kitten, either.

Giggling happily and dragging Michael to yet another ride his weak-stomached vessel would hate, Gabriel took the opportunity to look out at the cove. Weirdly enough, he could have sworn he saw something move on the rocks but simply shrugged it off. At least until the singing started. A haunting, calling cry pierced the air. It was a woman crying for a fallen soldier, a husband who was never coming home. The sobs of a lost child when they turn to their mother and no one is there. The soft cooing of a dove before it's shot down by some drunk bastard with a pistol. It was sad and sweet and mourning all in the voice of an angel.

Except it wasn't.

To Gabriel and, as he saw the wince, Michael, it was the most hideous thing they had ever had the torture of hearing. More like nails on a chalk board with a hint of cats in the moonlight yowling their off-key tune. "_Jeesh", _yipped Gabriel. "It's worse than Uriel and his first attempt at _Amazing Grace!_ Mikey, you just had to pick the one place we're most likely to run into some of the worst vocalists in the world. Congrats! I applaud you."

Gritting his teeth, Michael hissed, "_This _is not my fault. If you can remember that far back, I picked up the newspaper and handed it to you and then you, _not _me, pointed out that there was an amusement park out here. So don't go blaming all of this on me, because Father knows it was mainly Atropos and her revenge for what you did to her planner."

"_That was years ago!"_ Gabriel roared. Then stopped and tilted his head curiously to the side. The singing continued to grate around them but he wasn't paying attention to that. What he was focused on was the couple currently getting closer and closer to the edge of the cove until they were nearly falling into the water ten feet below. Then they did. Gabriel watched them fall and the horrid music ended with a shrill screech that was so familiar to him. It was driving him absolutely crazy that he couldn't figure it out. At least he had narrowed it down, though.

Without bothering to say goodbye to Michael, since God only knows how long he's going to take to get over this one, Gabriel flew back to the Super-8 and landed at the door to the boys' room just as they were opening it. Dean jumped when he saw him and a hand automatically went to his chest. "Jesus fucking Christ! Stop doing that. It's always you, Cas or Balthazar scaring the holy shit out of me so before I loose anymore years of my life, get a damn car!"

Blinking in confusion, Gabriel unconsciously tilted his head to the side and studied the human. "Kid, you really need to get out more. Speaking of out, I narrowed down our monster of the day. It's either a Bunyip, Lorelay, Siren, Naiad or a Melusine. Take your pick."

Sam stared at him before muttering under his breath and bringing his precious laptop back out. Typing faster than a speeding bullet and looking worse than a drug addict on crack, he pulled up five windows and typed in the names. Ah, the many wonders and horrors of Google. Especially since the first thing that popped up was an exotic dancer named Louisa Leucosia AKA Siren. That was the wonder of it. The horror was when they saw the girl, although gender was highly doubtful, that came up on the next page. After a quick shudder fest, Sam switched back to Louisa and tried to ignore the face Dean was making. Gabriel just stared at her, wondering why she looked so fucking familiar. At once, though, he relaxed. She was probably one of his former 'associates'.

Predictably enough, Dean called the telephone number at the bottom of the page and was informed of her ETA. He might have looked like a little kid in a candy store and _that was definitely the wrong analogy, _thought Gabriel with a grimace. Point is, he and Sam decided that it was better not to see, hear or Father forbid, _participate _in any of the fantasies the woman had spoken of on the phone. He preferred to go with a duo, not a trio if you get the picture. Anything with more than two people was just asking for trouble with Lust. He hated it when he wasn't involved in these things and Gabriel had to say, for not being there, he had gotten pretty good vengeance.

After watching Louisa and her three friends limber up in a bit of a practice run-through, which included the gender questionable troll, just outside the car. A swift knock on his brain via Michael forced him to turn away, although he was pouting all the night while his brother lectured. When it was finally over, he looked over at Sam in the front seat and muttered, "Well don't you look cozy."

And he did. Sam was curled into a tiny ball with his head on his knees. The only thing ruining it was the soft whimpers and exclamations of, "_No!_ P-please stop! C-can't take it!"

_Nightmares, _Gabriel mused. _You can run and hide from all of your problems unless the problem lies within you. I wonder what hunters dream about?_ After all, the things they see and hear on a daily basis could be nothing less than scarring for the mind, soul and body. Some people say what doesn't kill you can only make you stronger and it's true…up until a point. Until everything that's ever harmed you, put a dent in your shield of innocence comes rushing back in a tidal wave of memories that will only drive you to insanity. That's all Gabriel could possibly see in store for the two Winchesters.

To each his own, though. The boys had been living like this for a long time and it was amazing they hadn't broken by now, Hell notwithstanding. In a rare show of empathy, he reached over and simply shook Sam from his tormented dreams and dodged the punch that came next with ease. Gabriel saw the shimmer of tears in the kids eyes and for his own benefit, pretended not to see. It wasn't that he couldn't deal with a weepy human, it was just…bringing back memories. Of silver tears and hands grasping at his feathers with a desperation born of grief. The memories being relived repeatedly while he could do nothing but hold his brother in his arms and wings silently condemning himself.

No. This was better off not being repeated.

Instead, he gave him a bright smile and chirped, "Morning, sleepy Sammy!"

Sam looked at him blearily and just nodded before slowly dragging himself out of the Impala with his arms around his chest. He was quietly falling part. It was obvious to anyone who looked. One of the beach bunnies even had the courage to come up, rub his arm and ask him what was wrong. Gabriel allowed his lips to twitch even before he saw the grace flow from the vessel of Ariella. She was a softy at heart, though mostly for children. This wouldn't have been the first time she soothed the boy's pain though. She had grown quite fond of him when looking after his wounds and emotional scarring as a kid. That was the way she was. Ariella was a lioness-beautiful and protective of who she loved.

Sam relaxed after a few seconds of having his ruffled feathers straightened. After just standing and staring at him for a very long time, she turned and murmured sweetly, "It was nice seeing you again, Gabe. Take care of you and yours."

Smiling hugely, he nodded and waited for the rustle of feathers before turning to see Sam's face. It was absolutely priceless. Eyes wide and mouth drooping open just enough to look like a stupid person instead of having a stroke, it was like this that Dean found him. Annoyingly cheerful, bright Dean who hadn't had to make the choice between mental scarring and sleeping in a car all night. Who hadn't just had to relive one of the worst points of his life in a long line of screw ups. Who had just gotten laid by four hot women and an ugly duckling. Life really wasn't fair.

Dean actually came up to him and asked, "So, what did you find?"

Bastard. He was a right bastard.

"Well, Dean, since we slept in the car all night I figured now would be a good time to tell you about the wild and rampant sex I had with Sasha in the backseat. Sammy over there decided he was better off under that tree over there and I'm pretty sure he got hit by a falling coconut. Meanwhile, a girl flung herself off the top of the cove and into the water to the sound of a thousand children screaming in time to a steel drum band. All of this happened while you were having a mini Roman party in our hotel room which will have to be thoroughly sterilized when we get back. Dean? _Hello?_…Well, shit. At least now I know for sure what we're dealing with."

"You mean he wasn't just terrified of your wild and rampant activities in the backseat of the Impala?" Sam asked worriedly as he circled his brother like a vulture.

"Nope. He just got laid by a Siren. You know, you Winchesters have the worst luck when it comes to anything remotely resembling a relationship. He just got his soul taken, kid. The hookers last name was Leucosia, which is-"

"One of the Siren's names in lore. I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and say that the girls with her were her…brood?"

Gabriel smiled proudly. "Well, color me surprised! He's actually learning something. Anyhow, Sirens aren't like the myth entails. They don't sing and let their captures starve to death. They eat them raw with tartar sauce. Either that or if a Siren really likes a man, or woman since they aren't exactly picky, they steal that person's soul and stash it away in their tidal pool. Oh, and did I forget to mention this is what happens when humans and angels procreate? Surprise!"

Sam just grumbled and asked in typical Dean fashion, "So how do we kill them?"

"Ignore their song and they'll commit suicide via drowning. Easier said than done, though. I have a plan."

Gabriel's plan…

Needless to say, Sam wasn't exactly thrilled about what his part in the grand plan was. Mainly since it involved all of the dangerous parts and depended on Gabriel's part of the plan to be even remotely successful. Sighing and still grumbling, Sam started climbing the walls of the cove and froze when a sweet song muddled his head. Fingers slipping on the wet rocks, he started to fall until an even sweeter voice started from just above him. Startled, the spell broke and he looked up to see Gabriel with his feet dangling and head thrown back in song. _"I heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord…"_

The sirens were furious, to say the least. Screeching madly, the beautiful women unfolded birds wings and took flight towards their rival while Sam crept closer to their rock. The song went on but Gabriel's was stronger and he remembered how Orpheus had played his lyre so amazingly that none of Jason's crew were affected. He had to admit that now while the plan was in action, it didn't suck as badly as he thought it would. When Gabriel had said he was just going to sing, he hadn't thought the archangel would be this good. A second voice joined in and was almost as lovely than the first. Risking a glance, he saw Michael standing and staring at his brother with a slight smile. Gabriel was just beaming.

Remembering why he was there to begin with, Sam searched frantically for a glowing pool of water in the rocks. Only problem was: lots of water, lots of rocks and none of them were glowing. Suddenly, a voice cried, "Winchester! Over here!"

The angel from before was standing at the very top of a pillar of earth around five feet high pointing to something in the centre. She hopped down easily to let him up and when he turned around, she wasn't there. Stunned, Sam looked into a hole going straight down to the core of the structure and saw the shining water. Soft whispers flooded his ears before he swallowed and did exactly what he had been told to do by a trickster angel who may or may not have been trying to kill them all to begin with.

Taking the lid off of a masonry jar and pouring the contents in, he started to chant in Greek. The effects were instantaneous. The pool burst into blue and green flames, a wispy cloud covered the cove and the Sirens finally saw him. It was too late to run now but to fly…? As he watched, Gabriel disappeared from the edge and was standing in front of him with an impetuous look on his face. "C'mon, hurry up! I have no desire to make nice with the bitches who tore out at least half of my feathers."

Michael was gone as well, he noticed, before hastily grabbing hold of Gabriel's arm. They were gone in an instant.

Hours later, Sam was filling Dean in on what happened. "Dude, seriously. You screwed a siren, as in a thousand year old sea monster who lures men to their deaths with songs. I think this beats the time with the vampire and snake lady. Think with your head, not your dick."

Snorting, Dean muttered, "It was one time, Sammy. How the hell was I supposed to know there were scales under that dress? Seriously, though. How'd you get past the sirens?"

Castiel popped in just then and murmured, "Sam, I'm not sure you understand just what has happened. Yes Dean, you did lust for a siren and yes, she stole our soul. I'm going to hazard a guess and say you have no idea what it means to Heaven to hear Gabriel sing again?" At their confused 'no's, he continued. "Sam, my brother hasn't sung a note since the Fall. It was always said to be the sweetest sound ever heard other than our Father's voice. Now that you have heard him, you have the mark of Gabriel ingrained into your skin. His grace is glowing on you now."

Sam didn't know if it was incredibly nice or incredibly creepy to have anyone's grace on him. He decided not to voice it, though. Before leaving Huntington Beach to make the long trek back to Bobby's, Sam looked out at the cove one last time to see a figure staring at him. It was the angel, red hair waving gently in the breeze. She lifted her hand to wave and when the Impala turned the curb closest to her, she mouthed, "I am Ariella."

That was all he could hear for the rest of the ride.

**Oooooh, Sammy has a crush on an angel! Not just any angel, either. Google her and you'll see why she'd make a good match for Sam. Unfortunately, this isn't a romance story so there is no relationship other than guardian and protected between Sam and Ariella.**


	16. Guilt and Memories Mix

**Okay, so I finally watched the episode and have made many ideas for coming chapters. Meditation period is finally over, readers! **

**PS, Pull my finger! Love Cas…**

**Disclaimer: Not mine. No la mia. Non meu. Nid yw cloddio. Non meam.**

Chapter Sixteen: Guilt and Memories Mix

Family. It holds the world together in harmony, though not always peace. They are a comfort, a catalyst and a general pain in the ass for others but still we love them will all our hearts. _Until they fuck up and destroy the world, kill their little brother and completely blow the whole idea to bits, _thought Gabriel reflectively. Tapping his fingers against the hotel room's silly wooden table, he listenedto the boys talking about the mother of all and tried to ignore the huge weight on his mind via Heaven. They wouldn't find anything about the Mother of All in any textbook or slab of stone on this earth.

Gabriel would know. He had destroyed every last trace of her.

In other news, Mel Gibson was not, in fact, possessed by a demon. Completely demon-free, although the Vatican might have a different opinion about the subject. Dean's theory wasn't without it's points, though. Maybe he should stop by for a visit before something the knuckleheads hunt try blowing them all to Purgatory come. Then he thought, _Nope. It's too late._ Joy of all joys, the boys had found another hunt in which they would ruin perfectly good clothes, slightly used bandages and a shit load of antiseptic. Woohoo. Sighing, Gabriel shoved his head into his hands and tugged at his hair. This wasn't a good time for this _at all._

Ever since Lucifer's return, things in Heaven had become strained. The tension was building and building and now it was ready to explode in all it's holy glory. Some of their brothers didn't want to give the Morningstar another chance with his grace and others, those un-poisoned by the thoughts of their elders who had fought in the Fall, believed he had a place with them once more. Visions and possibilities of all the maybe's and should have's clouded his head and made for an incredibly painful migraine. Then again, considering around half of Heaven was gearing up for war _against _the archangels it would have been odd for it not to have made his head explode. Gabriel was afraid this would be the second Fall.

_**For all of us.**_

Swallowing hard, he tuned back into the conversation and made his choice. If it came down to fighting, he wouldn't run away. The Messenger would fight just as well as his brothers for the sake of a former fallen angel who had reconciled and acknowledged his mistake. That's only if it came to making the choice. For now, he was going with Sam and Dean to kill whatever they were pointed at. Nodding slightly, he joined in the conversation and pushed thoughts of war to the back of his mind. "So, knuckleheads. Any idea which poor shmuck found your number? 'cause ghost mail isn't fun when the person on the other end of the line is actually dead."

Exchanging glances, Sam finally said, "Um, actually, no. We have no idea, but the coordinates lead to Bristol in Rhode Island, and it seems that there's been three missing women in the past week. We were going to check it out, see if we have a case."

Then there was the argument. Ah, will wonders never cease? Yawning, Gabriel whistled a show tune and glanced between the Winchesters as the typical I'm-worried-about-you-but-won't-admit-it look passed through Dean's eyes and Sam's responding don't-obsess-I'm-fine-see? look. It was so amazingly ordinary that he didn't even have to look ahead to see the outcome which is, of course, Sam winning the stupid argument and then going on the road to nowhere.

And that's how they ended up in Bristol, in a small diner that reminded Gabriel of a bad pirate movie. That's not to say the drive down wasn't amusing, what with all the strange faces Sam was making and the peculiar looks he was giving to nobody in particular. The queen of all bitch-faces came when they actually passed the town limits and say the sign leading to Bristol. God, the look on that kid's face was enough to reduce even Michael the humorless one into a snicker fit. Unless, of course, soulless Sam had been here and accidentally murdered a few of the town's residents in their sleep while carrying a bad bottle of Whiskey in one hand. Yes, soulless Sam had been a drinker. Nice.

Snorting into his drink, Gabriel pictured the kid hammered and decided he didn't feel like ending his life choking on a straw. Laughing lightly, he looked around and completely ignored the important conversation going on in front of him. Something else was calling his attention. Mainly the incredibly hot woman with a wedding ring on her finger giving Sam sex eyes. Could he have…? Stifling his laughter, Gabriel fell from his chair in a fit of suppressed glee and convulsed silently on the floor until he couldn't take it. Finally running out of breath, he took a gasping breath and let out a childish squeal of laughter at the train wreck just waiting to unfold before his eyes.

The look in Sam's eyes told him that the kid most definitely remembered her from somewhere and didn't like it. Horror inching from every pore on his body, Sam spoke awkwardly and never made eye contact. Which only served to put Gabriel into another laughing fit at the pure teenage way he was handling the situation. Meanwhile, somewhere in Heaven the rest of the archangels were shaking their heads in complete and utter defeat. The attempt to teach Gabriel the concept of subtlety had clearly been a waste of two centuries in the effort. His garrison was laughing with him, as apparently, they had caught their general's sense of humor and decided to do more than just go along with the joke. If angels had to breath…well, let's say there would be a few less angels.

Still snickering and wiping away at the tears in his eyes, Gabriel froze when the consequences of what had just happened slammed home for him. Sam had been here before. Sam, soulless and uncaring Sam, had been to this town. As if in confirmation, Sam suddenly murmured, "I think Samuel and I have worked a case in this town."

"No shit, Sherlock. I don't think there would be a barkeeper staring at you like he's about to ask for your autograph or a married woman staring at you like the fucking Messiah if you hadn't. Things like this come in time, Sammy. Or all at once if an unfortunate series of untimely and fricking hideous events come into play. Oh, wait…" As usual, he was ignored.

Dean produced a picture from the challenge wall with a blurry but still recognizable Sam in the background. Of course he would believe his brother…but that didn't change the fact that they were _so_ screwed.

After a not-so-graceful exit, he and the knuckleheads managed to get back to the hotel without running into any of 'Agent Roark's' sexcapades girls. Sam was, as usual, researching and Dean sat there staring at him with his brows furrowed in a way that distinctly reminded him of the Neanderthals. Gabriel was starting to think he had slipped his ballot into the wrong box for the humanoid to evolve beyond eating fleas as a nutritional beddy-bye snack when, of course, Sam had the sudden insight to what their hunt was. Apparently, he and dear old Grandpa Winchester had come across a few missing people, all men, and decided to check it out. Now the critter was pulling a switcheroo and killing the _opposite gender._

Equal opportunity. It's a bitch.

And…now they were arguing about whether or not they should work the case. Smooth. Gabriel felt a tic develop in his cheek as he contemplated the consequences of dropping them both somewhere random in the space-time continuum. The drive here? Hell. Finding a hotel room? Hell. Parking? Worse than hell. The food? Hell. The heartburn he was getting _from _the food? Hell. The fact that right now there was a near war going on in Heaven and these two were sitting here arguing about God knows what while this list has been compiling? Take a guess. Seething, Gabriel screamed. Lights broke, walls shook and cracked while a hideous whine no doubt filled the ears of every being in a twenty mile radius. Rain pattered the ground outside in a torrent while lightning struck trees that were dangerously close to the hotel.

After a minute, Gabriel finally coughed and sat calmly on one of the beds. "Now. Dean. Here is why we aren't leaving this hunt to Bobby. For one thing, we're already here and I absolutely _refuse _to be stuck in a car with you two for any time longer than what is necessary. No offense, Sam, but beans aren't a good diet for you. For another, could you stop fucking arguing? I get that you're worried about Sam but tone it down so the souls that are currently damned to Purgatory aren't screeching their empathy for the kid. Are we clear?"

What followed this statement was a whole lot of silence and then what sounded like arguing. However, when Gabriel opened his mouth to scream again he was quickly told to 'calm his shit' and that it wasn't an argument, it was just a mild disagreement. Isn't it always? Muttering under his breath about comatose Sam and how things would be so much easier if everyone had voted for the Neanderthals, Gabriel sulked. The guilt fest from Sam and the admonishments from Dean about not shitting in the same crapper twice, which didn't make any sense _whatsoever _when you thought about it, made him want to hurl himself into the chasm and end it already.

Fortunately, it ended rather quickly and the Winchester brothers turned agents started their interrogations. Gabriel decided to go with Dean to visit the victim's friends and whatever while Sam went for the much less beautiful police men. The first missing girl was Nicole and their interview was her besty and roommate, a leggy blond with anxious eyes. Keen amber eyes darted over the room and found something spectacular…nothing. Not even dust. _Fuck me, _moaned Gabriel internally. He then cursed himself when a chorus of 'no's came back from his garrison. _NOT literally!_

Head snapping up, Gabriel squinted at Dean as he pulled a card from the glass bowl he'd been fiddling wi-oh. Shit. 'Agent Roark' strikes again. Guy down the hall, apparently. He was just investigating everyone, wasn't he? Stepping up, Gabriel took charge and murmured, "Miss, we will find her. We just need to know if there was any sexual attraction between Nicole and the agent that gave you that card."

As it turns out? Soulless Sam had been a man whore as well as a first-class drinker and murderer. The sexcapades just kept on coming, didn't they? Conversation drifted to his ears as Dean continued to talk to the roommate who still hadn't told him her name when an unpleasant tingle crept into his head. Closing his eyes, Gabriel allowed his mental shields down as he sorted through the jumble of visions that were being crammed into his skull by the coming fight. He immediately sighed and said to Dean, "Sir, we have to go. A call just came in about a possible lead on the case." He gave Dean a subtle hand gesture that made the hunter nod before excusing himself from the apartment.

"What?" he demanded as he took hold of Gabriel's arm in a tight grip. There was an obscene amount of worry in his eyes and the archangel gave a sad quirk of his lips as the next question came. "Where's Sam?"

"Prison." The answer was blunt and made Dean blink a few times before he continued. "Apparently, more than just the women remember who he was. Sammy put the beat down on a local cop and is currently being accused of the murders."

Dean stayed quiet. He remained that way while Gabriel let himself slip into a trance on the crappy bed in the hotel room to keep a constant eye on Sam. Internally whistling at what he was seeing and hearing, he tilted his head and heard the sound of a door slamming shut as Dean went outside. Something on the news that he had missed…? Sighing, Gabriel made a shocked sound in the back of his throat when he tuned back in to the Sam network only to find a woman with a set of keys. He was free. Smiling wryly he thought, _You ARE one lucky little bastard, aren't you?_

Ten minutes later, Gabriel was tossing the kid a beer while he shuffled through papers. All the while a countdown was going on in his head. _Three, two, one…Bingo._ Dean came through the door and raised his arms at the sight of Sam holding a gun to his head. "So. How does it feel to be a fugitive again?"

Long story short, Dean left again to interview more of Sam's lover's roommates while Sam went off to wherever. Gabriel? He went to Heaven. Right in the middle of a war room that used to be the Pantheon. Gaping in horror at the angels now staring at him with both sadness and hatred as they took up their weapons, he wondered just when the tension had reached the climax. Gabriel couldn't move, couldn't breath at the sudden fear that came over him. Where were his brothers? Shaking now, he looked each and every one of his siblings in the eye as they moved in on him from all sides. The fear was gone and replaced by complete and total rage. With a surge of pure grace, his wings were in a combat position and the formerly amber eyes glowed to a pure gold in preparation of dodging the blows. When it came, he was already three steps ahead.

Ducking around Zarion's trident and at the same time jumping over Kirial's sword, Gabriel's wings made quick work of the others as they beat strongly to create surges of powerful wind that brought his siblings to their knees. Taking out his own twin blades, he screamed, "_**ENOUGH!"**_

Voice echoing just as loudly as his horn, Gabriel roared, "Is this what we have come to? Fighting amongst ourselves as if the past few millennia never happened? _**Look at yourselves! **_How many siblings will we loose to a war that never should have started? You will look back on this day and wonder why you never realized how far Heaven had fallen until the day it's inhabitants caused another Fall. Every star that shines in the mortal sky was put there for a reason by Michael and the soldiers to remember what we lost that day. Now we ruin it by bringing fear and hatred back to a place once filled with glory. So shut up, sit down and for fuck's sakes _**put down your bloody WEAPONS!**_"

They sat. Older angels wouldn't dare meet his eyes and younger ones had just begun to see what they had nearly done. Gabriel heaved a sigh before murmuring, "This is why I left. We never trusted one another after Lucifer said no to Father and threw a silly tantrum that threw us all into chaos. None of us could look at each other without searching for another rebellion." Pausing to gaze at the silent warriors sitting and crying before him, Gabriel shook his head and whispered, "I thought we were better. Call me when you have resolved this war, because I sure as hell am _not_ fighting any of my siblings."

So he left. This little hiccup could take weeks, months or even years to resolve and the Winchesters were idiotic enough to go hunting an Arachne without knowing how to kill it. Gabriel's lips twitched dryly at the hopeless little town that had so many problems and so little answers. Appearing behind Sam, he stated, "Alright, kid. Let me enlighten yo…Uh, Sam? He-lloooo? Anybody there, Sam-I-Am? No? Great. He's started to remember and you haven't told me, have you, Dean."

He didn't answer, just looked at his brother with the utmost faith and worry in his eyes. The archangel glanced back to the unmoving behemoth standing in front of the map criss-crossed with a pattern of string stemming from every piece of evidence they had. Minutes later, the look in his eyes and the full body shudder told them all they needed to know. "I remember everything now."

Gabriel was quick to reassure Dean that when Sam said everything, he meant about what happened in the town. Stepping forward, he murmured, "Sam, you really are an idiot. To become an Arachne…you have to die, first. That's what the poison's for and you just hurried along the process. Fire can kill one and, as you discovered, decapitation but the only way to kill both the mother or hell, even father Arachne and it's nest is to stab the leader in the right side of it's chest with the spear of Athena. Since there's only one of those, I've taken the opportunity to get completely and utterly grounded by Michael and procure this item for you. Off you go now! Bon voyage! Happy hunting!" He said cheerily while all but shoving them out the door before tossing an ancient rune-covered spear into the dirt at their feet.

Turning around, he sighed at the look on Lucifer's face as he lounged in a half broken chair. Taking the seat opposite his big brother, Gabriel stated, "If you even touch upon the subject at large right now, I swear I'll decapitate you."

The temporary vessel he had taken was already starting to fall apart, judging by the redness of his eyes and paleness of his skin but still here he sat. Lucifer stood up with an unreadable look on his face before sitting next to Gabriel and tugging him towards his chest for a gentle hug. It felt incredibly good. Better than the desperate strength of the one before he had shoved both Lucifer and Michael into the cage and a whole lot better than the one he had been given when his brother had killed him. Sighing, the former Satan whispered softly in his ear, "Gabriel, I know this hurts you more than any of us. We can all feel it through our bond, the pain of the holding back the flood. The battle is over." A tender look came across his face before petting the silken hair of his true form with a sudden wash of grace.

He honestly had nothing to say to that. Instead, he muttered, "I'm not running away again. I'll come home."

Lucifer smiled and vanished with the loud rustle of wings.

When the boys came back oddly quiet and covered in web, bruises and blood, Gabriel took it as a semi-successful hunt. They had lost someone that, however unimportant, shaped the way they thought. Sam especially was quiet and determined not to let anyone see the brokenness lurking behind a see-through poker face. Grunting slightly, Gabriel cleaned them up with a snap of his fingers and said seriously, "Sam. I've done a whole lot of bad things in my life that you haven't even begun to comprehend, yet Michael welcomed me home with open arms. It might not look that way but there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. Whether it's hellfire or holy oil doesn't matter because you have family to stand by you. No matter what you did in the past, I can guarantee even one little thing I've done can top it by far."

"How?" asked Sam softly.

"I've killed children." Muttered Gabriel darkly before vanishing again. They didn't hear him and for that, he was glad. "One day I'll tell you just what I've done to save your collective asses. Until then, sleep tight and don't let the bedbugs bite."

**It's my birthday tomorrow! So, early birthday present from me to you, my dear readers! A bit of fluff between Gabriel and Lucifer as well as a glimpse behind our favorite archangel's mask. REVIEW!**


	17. Drag Queens and Kittens

**Just a bit of cuteness after such a terrible cliffy for the season finale. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a car, house or studio so what the heck would make you think I owned SPN?**

Chapter Seventeen: Drag Queens and Kittens

After the undoubtedly scarring experience in Bristol and the somewhat admission of murder on Gabriel's part, it was unanimously decided that a drink was in order. Or three, or four, maybe ten if you were Gabriel. They were just going to drink enough to get themselves completely and totally hammered before calling a cab to get back to their new piece of crap motel room. He had to admit, it was better than the other one. Lifting the old bottle of Whiskey he had snatched from an ancient brewery that nobody had ever found, he ignored the bug-eyed look from the bartender and took a deep swallow without stopping to relish the burn.

Sam wasn't doing much better. Poor kid was drinking Tequila straight up, no rocks, no juice, hell sometimes there was barely even a glass! The look on his face spoke of massive amounts of emotional pain that would fade in time but never lose it's impact. He ignored all the lusty girl in their tube tops and short-shorts with the simple explanation of not being his brother. That was how Sam coped. Stay low, drink the bar dry and wallow in guilt like a Hippo does in mud. Ordering a new can of beer that he made damn sure was imported, Gabriel took a sip before moving on

Dean, on the other hand, was basically doing this for his brother. Every twisted look on his face brought another Brewsky to their table in the shadows. _Kind of ironic, _Gabriel mused. _God's basically given up on us, there's no light at the end of the tunnel anymore and…there's a drag queen giving me the sex eyes._ It was true. On the other side of the bar, a guy wearing a long red-haired wig and tight leather clothing was staring at him and all but licking his thoroughly lipstick-coated lips in a way that made a shudder run through Gabriel's spine. _Eeeeew!_ It really didn't help that the way he was sitting gave him a clear view of more than just the guy's lips.

Suddenly, he decided he was drunk enough and rapidly stood to leave the God-forsaken bar before he got raped or something. Unfortunately the alcohol went to his head as well as whatever was put in it before being served to him. Great. The only archangel in history to get roofied in a bar. Now whining miserably at the pain in his stomach, Gabriel hiccupped before the alcohol decided to mess with his head again. Meaning he burst into tears. Sam and Dean looked on wide-eyed and hazily as the tears streamed down in torrents and nobody else noticed. It brought memories rushing back of the days when none of his brothers would care for him, play with him or notice him for decades and it only made him cry harder.

By now, the wails were piercing and the poor Winchesters had no idea what to do until Castiel half ran into the smelly bar to his mentor's side. After staring at his brother in utter bewilderment, he cautiously sat next to him and gave the archangel a slight pat on the back. Evidently, it wasn't enough because the screams were now bordering on angelic instead of just plain annoying. Too bad for them, because there was a shit load of Holy Oil burning through his stomach. That's not exactly something that can be ignored, especially when it starts to _literally _burn through one's stomach. Curling into a ball like a PMS-ing woman didn't help in the slightest.

Suddenly whipping his head to one side, he glared heatedly at the vampire now sitting calmly sitting at the bar nursing, irony of ironies, a Bloody Mary. The patrons were quickly leaving in the wake of the toilets, sinks and the nearby lake exploding into geysers and flooding the place rather rapidly. Dumb and Dumber were kneeling beside him while probably screaming at him to shut the fuck up, all in the time it took Castiel to fly his ass back to their side. Getting a hold on his pain, Gabriel grunted, "Well, this is all well and fucking jolly but now would be an excellent time to kill the drag queen sitting at the bar. Smells like v-vampire. _!"_

Alright. So now the Holy Oil has burnt through his stomach and is currently working on his lungs. Coughing deeply, boiling blood hissed and made a hole through the floor of the dingy bar before glowing gold as Gabriel's true form became harder to restrict. Before the Winchester's eyes could turn into a disgusting soup, Castiel made his move. Grabbing hold of the archangel's arm, he flew as fast as he could to the secluded area of Antarctica before his former mentor couldn't take it any longer. Loosing a scream that was, indeed, heard from China, Gabriel's true form burst through his vessel and thankfully didn't incinerate the Trickster. Castiel reached for the fluctuating grace with his own and tried blocking his brother from the pain. It was like a physical hug for angels. The waves of power still rolling off of the twitching bundle of feathers on the beyond frozen ground ceased as soon as he exhausted his reserves and collapsed.

The figure was barely shining, now, so it was as safe as any time to allow the Winchesters to see a true angel. Gabriel would stay this way until all of the oil was through his system so there wouldn't be any sudden bursts of grace strong enough to bring life to Mars. Standing up shakily and flaring his wings for balance, the newly poisoned archangel groaned in his lovely twenty-tiered voice and whined, _**"Why does this never happen to Michael or Raffy? It reminds me of the time when the Babylonians decided to make me their slave. Cassie, why is it always me?"**_

Castiel was then reminded of how young his brother looked in his true form. Around sixteen or seventeen and standing at a massive twelve feet tall, with a golden braid running to his waist and several smaller ones surrounding his face and a rune under his eye, yet he still looked like a baby in Heaven's eyes. Gabriel was short compared to Michael's fifteen feet and Lucifer's even more astounding sixteen feet, but taller than Raphael by a good two feet. Therefore, it was doubtful he would even fit through the door of the motel and they agreed that he would make it into a camping trip.

Not that Gabriel particularly liked camping. It was just a hell of a lot better than telling him the alternative of carving permanent sigils into his bright wings or drinking the demon's blood he so despised. The golden, pupiless eyes glared at him huffily before wincing as the fire reached into his grace to deplete it enough so that he barely shimmered at all. He now looked like a giant portrayed by the people in old England, minus the fact that he had actual personal hygiene and had no sudden urge to devour livestock. With that all cleared up, Gabriel flew himself to the forest closest to the Winchesters and set up camp the old fashioned and monotonously boring way. By hand.

To say he wasn't exactly happy with the arrangement was an understatement, as he actually mourned the loss of the stained and rumpled sheets covering the beds in the motel. The sleeping bag Castiel had provided him with did nothing to save his all but human body from the chill of night. Suddenly, a warm hand came around his back and brought with it a large smirk on the trickster angel's lips. Voice like a song, Gabriel cooed, _**"Mikey, did you miss me? More importantly, why didn't you come when I was screaming in agony and being flown to Antarctica? There were no penguins where I was and you know how I love penguins. Their so cute and fluffy and-"**_

"Gabriel," said Michael with fond exasperation on his face. "I came as soon as I was able. Raphael is asking about the strength of your grace, while Lucifer is curious as to why the Holy Oil didn't incinerate you right away from the inside-out. Although, he is glad it didn't so there is a small miracle in there somewhere considering the stark and utter horror you caused us all. Gabriel, we thought you were going to die…again. There is starting to be a trend in this manner, brother. We would greatly appreciate if you would end the streak as soon as possible." That said, Michael reached up quite awkwardly to give his brother a hug. Imagine a Chihuahua trying to intimidate a Mastiff.

In other words, not going to happen.

After he was alone again, he yawned and actually fell asleep. Angels never fall asleep. Shit, he was practically _human!_ Gabriel had an actual _human _dream in a _human _forest surrounded by _human _made objects. It was worse than Hell. At least in the pit he had someone to baby him and play silly games with but now? Deadsville. _Actually, it's kind of like what happened to that one town in the good ol' BC days after I accidentally drove a Mastodon through the very first human village. It was hilarious, even though Michael didn't think so. Wait…he laughed, too._

This was getting depressing. Instead of actually going out and doing something, he was reminiscing about the old days like someone's great-grandfather. At least he didn't have to walk uphill both ways through knee-deep snow to reach the shitty little schoolhouse that _really _needed a new roof. Then again, the endless expanse of white and gold clouds, with a smattering of very dark grey when Michael got pissy, wasn't exactly stimulating. Yes, heaven was beautiful but it was as boring as a cemetery minus the vengeful spirits and zombies. So a morgue. Yeah, a morgue would just about explain it. Of course, it got a little _too _entertaining after the Fall and that much excitement coming that quickly was just a bit much for the geezers with the better-than-thou tempers. That's right, they'd lost the seraphim.

Priestly bastards.

Not that priests were bastards. There were a few that Gabriel actually quite liked. Pastor Jim was amusing when he sniped at papa Winchester and Bobby to eat or meet the business end of his almighty spatula. There was this one ancient Egyptian priest that gave him sanctuary from the army chasing after him, with the added bonus of not killing him when he was told of his origins. Well….decapitation _would _kill most people but then, he wasn't exactly people. Speaking of decapitation, there was this one time he had to save Sammy by decapitating the vampire about to take a bite from his nine-year-old neck. The look on John's face was priceless.

Ok. So he wasn't exactly dreaming, just going through memories. _Sue me. _It was close enough. Actually, Gabriel was quite enjoying himself up until the point where someone muttered, "…Holy shit."

_And there goes the neighborhood. _Was it really too much to ask for one Winchester-free day? Or week, depending on how long the Holy Oil decided to try to kill him and how long God wanted to torture him? Gabriel was really starting to regret leaving Heaven for those two thousand years and not trying harder to sway votes to the Neanderthals. Maybe then there wouldn't be two Winchesters, a pastor and a priest who was currently all but scraping the ground with his knees in an attempt to bring about the picture of subservience. At least it wasn't Babylon.

Pastor Jim**(AN: I know he died in the first season, but John and Mary came back so, Ta-Da!)** wasn't exactly the picture of a man of God until you looked at his eyes, which were wide and awed now but likely wouldn't be as soon as he opened his mouth and spoke. Flaring his six golden wings mockingly at the priest, he took great pleasure in watching the idiot cringe away and…speak in tongues? Really? Gabriel had no idea why people though anyone, even God himself, could understand or even speak the 'language' without a mental impediment. Even then those with the impediment were generally saner than this…thing. Blinking at the priest dully, he drawled, "**Sprekensie English?"**

There were no words to describe how amazing it was to see the sheer awe in the priest's eyes and the total unimpressed quality in the pastor's. Grinning, he spoke directly to Jim and said, "**Well, well, well! Jamsey boy! Good to see you hale and in one piece."**

Bowing his head slightly, he murmured, "Archangel Gabriel, is it? From what the boys have told me you're quite the trickster. They also say you see things before they are to happen and I would like for you to help us with our hunt."

Well. That was straightforward. **"Not even going to buy me a drink first, are you? Well, let's see… the thing you're looking for is called a Bishu, native to Asia but it doesn't always stay there. Looks like shit come to horrific life with fangs the length of your finger and a nose bigger than the state of Texas. On a map, obviously. Stands at about 4'3 with brown-red fur and is often announced by the smell of rotting human flesh which, by the way, comes from the fur they died brown with dried blood. Leaves one hell of a trail, though! Coagulated blood that flows from it's own overgrown teeth digging into it's upper lip. The jaw dislocates itself like a python's so it can eat things up to and including the height of a standing human around that guy's width. Any questions?"**

Barely noticing the priest's burning look of devotion, pastor Jim stated calmly, "If you know all this then why don't you tell us where it is?"

"**Isn't it obvious? Those things were around in the BC's. You know what that means? They had the opportunity to eat naïve angels in their vessels. They're so addicted to angel flesh they actually tried to command the humans to create a tower in order for them to slaughter us all and make a few massive chicken wings. They failed, obviously. The thing is, evolution did them a favor. They look like humans except for a few small details." **Snagging one of the priest's gloves hands, he tore back the sleeve of his cloak and revealed the brown-red fur he'd been talking about. **"Pastor, you already knew what he was. So this was either a test for me or a temptation for him. Believe me when I say, 'fuck you, and your little dog, too' wasn't in Dorothy for a reason and if there wasn't a reason for being here, I definitely wouldn't be."**

Evidently, having an angel-eater standing extremely close to their General wasn't top of his garrison's priority list as the priestly Bishu screamed as the strength of a thousand bursting stars filled his bloodstream. Speaking over the sound, he continued. **"Be thankful you are a man of God, James. Michael isn't very happy with you right now. On the other hand, Raphael is ecstatic to finally have a specimen to study without losing a piece of his arm. So, Pax Vobiscum and peace out. Goodbye. Alright, eedjits. Stop staring at my wings! Seriously! **_**CAAAASSSSS!"**_

Guess what? No answer. Coward.

Pastor Jim didn't look too impressed with him, which severely pissed him off for some obscure reason. When Gabriel gets mad it's usually a good indicator of what should either never happen or just what would end your life in a flash of lightening or, if he _really, really _hated you, a monsoon. Dean angered him further by actually pointing to his wings as if Gabriel couldn't actually see them, which was ridiculous because they were and will always be attached to his body. Sam slightly cooled his temper with a dash of amusement as the wide-eyed Winchester made an effort not to look at the feathery protrusions on his back. Pastor Jim was still giving him that look of disappointment that both curdled his blood and reminded him of Michael after the Hound's romp through Joshua's gardens.

Wincing slowly as the look didn't waver, Gabriel carefully began backing away and cringing until he was up against a tree. Although he probably could have gone right through the thing, it was over two hundred years old and probably didn't want to die due to an abashed angel. So he stared straight into the pastor's strangely serious eyes and did the one thing that came naturally before all the trickery; the one sure thing he had always done to get out of the look.

He started bawling.

That got the pastor out of it. Through his alligator tears, Gabriel could see guilt forming on the man's face as he actually tried to comfort an archangel two or three times his height. It was all he could do not to make the sobs turn into full-blown gales of laughter until he accidentally stepped on one of the only pieces of the Bishu that had survived being filled with angelic grace. Of course, it _had _to be one of the teeth. It hurt like a bitch and with the really crummy day he was having in accordance to the universal code of baby brothers, he screamed, "_**MICHAEL!"**_

As it turns out, Michael was busy. Too busy to help his whining baby brother. So he sent Raphael to do it, only to discover that he was even worse off because of a recent accident involving God-knows-what and Balthazar, who for some inexplicable reason was missing all of his feathers and hair. Honestly, when Michael saw him even the Commander had to agree that he looked like a plucked chicken. Gabriel got a kick out of it later when he wasn't so moody. Ariella was busy skewering some attempted pedophiliac rapist somewhere in Jersey, Aziraphael was in one of his trances and Castiel was snickering silently at his predicament. So guess who they sent? The most beautiful, most _adorable _creature Heaven had ever created.

A kitten.

The little brown ball of fur mewled pathetically from it's spot on the ground, covered in grime from wherever Michael had poofed it from. Eyes wide in an unreadable expression, Gabriel looked at it as the little guy opened it's big blue eyes and started scooting towards him. What could he say? It was adorable. Squealing and scooping up the kitten delicately in one massive hand, he regulated his strength and stroked one of the delicate ears. Preoccupied with the kitten, he didn't notice the awkward hunters slowly backing away and giving each other strange looks that questioned, rightly, the mental capabilities of one of the very first angels in Heaven.

That was okay, though. Michael and the others weren't sure if he was actually credibly sane and always in the future or just…out there.

What followed was the most awkward get-a-way in history as well as one of the many things Lucifer would regret suggesting to Michael. It was right up there with, 'Well, let's let them build the tower of Babylon. What's the worst that could happen?…my bad,' and, 'What's this? Twenty pounds of something called chocolate? Hmmm. Well, go for it Gabe, it couldn't hurt…shit.' Because now there was an archangel, a kitten and two more archangels who didn't have the heart to take away the kitten and were now surrounded by jealous Hounds with very sharp teeth.

But Gabriel didn't care. He was too busy snuggling with his new kitty. Until it was slipped from his hands by the very same drag queen/vampire that had been eying him in the bar he'd been roofied in. The vampire took one look at his wide eyed horror before snapping it's neck in one fluid motion. He smirked in what he probably thought was a sexy rendition of the duck-lips before raising the now paralyzed but not quite dead kitten to his lips. Needless to say, it didn't get there. Not because of Gabriel, either.

As it turns out, the little critter was one of Lucifer's old hunting cats' son and mama wasn't very impressed with her newly paralyzed baby. Neither was Lucifer. Or Gabriel. Heck, none of the angels were happy with the poor little kitten's near death and were downright furious when he vampire's teeth actually made it through the kitten's already tough hide. To say there wasn't much left of him after both mama Percinua and the angels had gotten to him would be an understatement. There _wasn't _anything left. Of course, after he was healed by Raphael the little kitten had to go back to Heaven with Lucifer and his mother but only after being named by Gabriel.

He named it Hershey.

**This is the second take of this chapter and if you want me to post the depressing failure, review and I'll make it into an extra. Sorry for taking so long with this. Apologies for anyone living in Jersey. There is not, I repeat, NOT a rapist in your city. Country. Tavern. Town…Now is a good time to bring up that I nearly failed Geography.**


	18. If Wishes Were Feathers

**Okay, so I haven't had cable for a week and haven't been able to watch Supernatural. On the other hand, I just made the first chapter of the prequel, the second chapter of a story for my friend, a prompt for an Avengers fic and started another SP fic. Week fulfilled? I think so. Here's another mini story. It's some bad memories and some adorable parts with Cas comforting his big brother.**

**Disclaimer: Still very much broke and jobless. Don't own SP.**

Chapter 18: If Feathers Were Wishes

It was quiet. For once, there was no hunt to go on and nobody to risk life and limb for only to be driven from the town. It just _was._ The boys were sitting with Bobby drinking beer and reminiscing about the days when their innocence still had the illusion of being intact. Dean was quiet on that subject but allowed his brother the freedom of telling the early years to Cassie, even though he was their guardian angel and already knew. The truth was, Dean had only had four years of innocence and it all ended in the heat of fire and the screams of a mother begging for the very lives of her family. Sam, though…he was lucky. People loved him enough to keep secrets about what went bump in the night until he could find out for himself. Seven years of good luck and he considered it terrible just because he had to move away from his friends.

Dean knew. Four years old and learning to shoot a gun in order to keep his precious baby brother safe from the thing that killed his mommy. Castiel knew. As soon as he turned old enough to hold a sword, Gabriel had taught him as best as he could on how to use it. Steel would be the only way to face what was coming. Words be damned. And Gabriel? He had _always _known. Not because of who he was or what he was capable of, but how he was raised. Alone. Lost in the brightness of Heaven where no one bothered to look. Misplaced in the very sanctuary that the holy men dreamed of reaching, where utter perfection was as blissfully certain as angels having wings.

It wasn't. Heaven was full of tension and mistrust and just as imperfect as Earth, itself. Gabriel would know. For centuries, he had faced it alone without a mentor to guide him or friends to distract him from the stark abyss of loneliness that formed over time. He was always the strange one, the fledgling staring into the shimmering stars without an emotion to show for it. The one to face Death when he came calling and run with the wild Hounds as if he were one. They didn't understand until someone told them that he was special. Some of his brothers _still _didn't. Castiel didn't count, since he had raised the fluffy winged little bastard from a fledgling. Cassie knew everything about him.

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, he absently grabbed a knife and waltzed into the bathroom. Gabriel turned his back to the mirror and started to cut the sigils into his back. After recently getting word of the Pagans following his trail, he knew it was time for a new look. What better look than the one nobody saw? Ancient Enochian words of power pulsed with golden light to the thrum of his grace as he turned his face to the mirror and watched the trickster Loki's body change. From the former stature, it became about 6'1 and the skin on his face stretched taught to cover an angular bone structure. Slender muscles formed on the former body of Loki Laufeysson and turned the figure in the mirror into a teenage boy with a long braid of golden hair and endless amber eyes. Long lashes brushed over his cheek and a single tattoo-like sigil burned to his arm. Finally, six golden wings with their feathers in disarray burst into being with a shower of golden sparks. They remained carefully tucked against his back.

There was a reason for his madness. Grabbing the beer and taking a swig as he walked, the archangel bounced into the living room to a lively beat. He was met with quickly drawn guns and an angel blade under his chin. Wary of his little brother, Gabriel drawled, "Where's the love, Cassie? Easy, knuckleheads. It's just me. I wanted to play a game and since I'm not especially fond of shooting birds, my wings will have to do."

One look at his wings brought Castiel into a frenzy. Shoving him into a chair, he began absently running fingers though one of them. Gabriel held out three others and murmured, "It's a fledgling game called 'If Feathers Were Wishes.' Each molting fledgling would groom one wing and the first to have a feather fall out has to ask a question. Everyone has to answer and make a wish related to that question. For instance, Uriel and I played a round with Raphael and the bastard actually asked if I could see the future. I told him the answer, which is no, and wished he could see it. Cassie played it with me when he was starting to shed feathers and he said it was the dullest, most embarrassing game he had ever played. So, what say you? I need a grooming anyways."

Amazingly, they agreed. They were extremely wary about taking hold of the massive appendages but once they did, he was pretty sure Bobby wanted to pluck off all of his feathers to make a quilt or something. After a quick grooming lesson from Castiel, the incredibly strange and slightly painful, in the case of Dean's version of grooming, the game commenced. Sam was the first one to find a feather. Holding the incredibly long and silky cream-and-gold feather between his fingers, he put on his thinking face and asked, "Um…how old are you? I'm twenty-six."

"That was weak, Samantha," Dean snorted derisively. "Thirty."

"None of your goddamn business," Grumbled Bobby. At a look from Gabriel promising severe embarrassment should he decline to answer, he sighed and muttered, "Oh, balls! Let's see…I was two years older than John and ten years older than Jim, so about…fifty-six, give or take a couple of years?" At the archangel's happy grin he breathed something in Chinese under his breath only to have his annoyance speak cheerfully in the exact same context. The old hunter just put his head in his hands and muttered, "I shoulda known."

Ignoring everyone else, Castiel thought for a second and replied, "Around four million years old. I was created around two billion years after the first fish took a breath of air, since I remember Gabriel took me to see it and then accidentally stepped on it. It was two hundred and fifty thousand years before the fall, so that is an accurate estimate."

"Twenty-seven billion, eight hundred million, two thousand one hundred and seventy-two years old," Gabriel answered promptly. Turning to Castiel awkwardly because of his wings, the angel whined, "I did _not _step on the fish! You pushed me when a volcano erupted two yards behind you and you suddenly decided you wanted to hide in my wings. Therefore, it was _your _fault the amphibian people never took off. Besides, there was another one right behind it."

"Gabriel," Castiel murmured with as much patience as he could. "The fish behind it was not a fish. It was a piece of coral _shaped_ like a fish that you changed the currents to get to shore just in case Father was watching. I did not push you, as I was only about three pounds and couldn't move you if I tried. Also, there were never going to be any amphibious species of semi-humans or else the mammals wouldn't have stood any semblance of a chance. I have seen the 'Creature from the Black Lagoon' and the probability of the creature killing and eating many other life forms was too high. Therefore, Father would not have made them."

"He made vampires, didn't he?" Gabriel said sullenly. Before an answer could be said, he made a swishing motion with his finger and shut his little brother's mouth temporarily. Bobby held up a shorter feather than the one Sam had chosen, this one probably from the curve of his wings. Interrupting the human, he exclaimed, "No one made a wish!"

Grumbling, they did as they were told. Dean wished he could forget the years he spent in Hell which made the angels feel both guilty and charitable. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do that wouldn't cause brain damage,like the wall in Sam's mind, or outright kill him. Gabriel was still willing to try, but was quickly voted down. _With or without the brain damage, he'd be exactly the same. _Bobby wished he could remember his wife's face from all those years ago when she wasn't a zombie or possessed. That, Gabriel could do. As they watched, the feather darkened brightened slightly and images moved blurrily across it. "Whenever you want to remember, pick up the feather. Also, it gives a pretty damn good boost to any coffee you might have in the morning. Makes it strong enough to kill an elephant, or maybe even a native New Yorker."

Sam wished he hadn't taken for granted his family and there wasn't a flying shit he could do for that. Of course, they had the same problem. He had forsaken his family and now maybe three quarters of the angels he'd grown up with or taught over the many centuries of his lifetime were dead or fallen. He stayed quiet for a second then let Castiel speak. The angel of Thursday promptly said, "I regret not listening to Gabriel when he tried to tell me that there was more to life than just flying and fighting. The only consolation is that I was a fledgling and was too busy playing with the Hounds to take any notice of his words. They were the last words he said to me before leaving Heaven."

That…there were no words to say to that. Berating himself for the tears blurring his vision he murmured in what he hoped was a steady voice, "Alright, Singer. Your turn."

Voice gruff and no nonsense, he asked, "Alright, ya eedjits. Who do ya remember that ain't walkin' this Earth anymore? My wife, obviously."

This was turning out to be the worst game Gabriel had ever played. The fledglings asked humorous questions, not ones designed to dig up deep dark memories from the pit they'd been buried in because they were too dismal to face! All of the brothers and sisters he had lost, the Father that had abandoned them to their fates and a single fledgling that became the angel of hope who was slowly dying. Dean answered first. "Mom. She was the first person I saw die that brought home how easy it was to lose to something stronger than you. She's the one who made me promise to look after Sam."

"Jess. I was going to propose to her before Dean dragged me out of college. I regret that she died but not that I left, if that makes any sense." Sam was reluctant on this question and it was easy to see he was wishing he could have known his mother better. "I guess it was better than dragging her into Hunting."

Castiel was quiet when he answered. "Anna. My senior officer in combat and my first friend. She betrayed Heaven to follow her heart and was tormented because of it. Although she turned her back on the good in life, I cannot fault her."

Gabriel couldn't answer. Instead, he said weakly, "Skip the question?"

The look he got from Dean was part disgust, part triumph. "I knew it! I knew you wouldn't get close enough to anyone to miss them. You're a bastard, you know that?"

The horror on Sam's face was laughable if he wasn't completely and utterly pissed off. The wings on his back went from soft and fluffy to a metal substance stronger and sharper than steel. Sam hissed in pain as the feather he was running over his hand cut deeply into his skin and brought blood bubbling to the surface. An oceanic roar filled the air, water trickled from places where there were no holes and thunder crashed as Gabriel's bright eyes turned to a stormy black. Dean stepped back warily but not before a heavy wing flung out and sent him into a wall. Ignoring the grace and weapons being flung at him, he pushed Dean against the wall with an elbow to his throat and crooned dangerously, "Do you want to know who I've lost, Winchester?"

"Damael, Champael, Aziraphael, Attenifor, Raguel, Lucifer, Uriel, Hopaliel, Irkianel, Salizien, Arkaniel, Caranwael, Soliel, Samael, Girael, Rifkaleal, Kipakiel, Istabael, Amael, Lossarael. All were lost in a fight with a creature more hideous than any demon, any _monster _you have ever faced. God willing, you won't ever have to. Every single one of them had their grace swallowed slowly and painfully as it was siphoned from their very bodies until they were nothing but husks. Finally, there were only five archangels in he world and each and every one of my dead brothers and sisters were forgotten. Nobody remembered the ones who saved their very lives and gave theirs. Tell me, Dean, have you ever seen a single mention of Samael? They call him the angel of Death but he wasn't the horseman. They remember him as a traitor. Did you know he sacrificed himself? He _volunteered_ to be killed to be with his brother Champael. I can only hope he died when we shoved him in with those creatures." Letting go of Dean and watching him drop to the floor, he spun on his heel and walked away.

Castiel followed. Snarling under his breath, the archangel whipped around to tell him off but before a single word could come from his throat, Castiel had his arms around him. Gabriel was speechless as a hand brushed against his feathers, asking him to settle. After an awkward heartbeat, he did. The golden and cream wings dropped with a heavy thump to the ground just like the archangel they belonged to. Castiel crouched beside him and began straightening his feathers with careful fingers. The silence was comfortable and oddly enough, Gabriel had no wish to break it. His wings rustled in the breeze with singing birds in the dark of the night and the chirping of crickets, keeping time with the heartbeat of the world.

With one pair free of broken and dirty feathers, Gabriel cut the silence. "I'm sorry." Seeing the patient look on his fledgling's face, he continued. "The game isn't meant to be serious. Thorn-in-my-side one, two and especially three made it a whole lot more serious than it was supposed to be. After all the hunts and stress, I just…thought a stupid kid's game would let them relax. So, I'm sorry I even brought it up."

Castiel sighed softly and murmured, "Gabriel, it was good of you to try but the Winchesters were never children. They can't put up a front like you and pretend everything will work out. You have no need to be sorry."

Absently leaning against his little brother made Gabriel sigh. "Remember when I took you to the 21st century when you were a fledgling? With the baby bird and the mother with a broken wing?"

"If you mean the time you went and ate a candy store out of business, then yes. After we left the store there was a single baby bird in a nest being attacked by a crow. The mother already had a broken wing and was still trying to protect her little one. You drove the predator away and when you went to help her, she scratched you deep enough to see bone and tried to fly her baby to the nest. What did you say to her, anyways?"

"I told her that I was raising a fledgling of my own and even though I was trying, everything that happened to him felt like a hammer to the chest. That whenever I lost sight of him I went on a warpath through Heaven to try and find him because someday, he would be the only thing I had left. Finally, I told that stupid pigeon that someday I would give my life to save one of the only good things that ever happened to me. Personally, I think she got tired of me and allowed me to fix her wing just to get rid of me but who knows?"

Another pair of wings clean. Castiel smiled slightly when he found the scar stretching from mid-wing to nearly four feet towards the tip. It was only a white line now but it still carried memories. "Brother, speaking of warpath, remember this scar?"

Snorting, he answered, "You mean the time when little Tanaziel told you your wings were too tiny to ever fly with and you pulled a runner on me? I think I'm the only angel in history to nearly have an aneurysm and a heart attack all at the same time. Kid, you scared the shit out of me. And why the hell didn't you run from that fucking demon? If I hadn't gotten there in time you wouldn't have a head _or _your 'little butterfly wings'! Why did you bring it up, anyways?"

"It was the first time I realized you really would die to protect me as well as the realization that you were not indestructible."

_Flashback (full story in prequel)_

_Castiel stared frozen at the massive cloven hoof nearly half of his height. Swallowing hard, he started to back away and ducked as a sword two times his own height gleaming a wicked and poisonous black was swung straight for his head. A tiny whimper escaped his throat and he knew he had to be brave like Gabe when he left to give his messages. Eyes hardening in resolve, he turned his back to run and realized a split second later just how terrible an idea it had been. A heavy fist slammed against his back with enough force to bring an audible crack ringing through the air. Now stuck on the ground and in amazing amounts of pain, the six year old Castiel let out a terrified wail._

_The sword came for him and was met with twin blades of glowing gold with wicked curves. Gabriel, without armor or backup, was pure power as he snarled and struck repeatedly against the giant even taller than he was. Castiel huddled against the clouds and watched in awe as his unstoppable big brother parried and ducked all while leading the demon away from his fledgling. Only after they were fifty feet away did he start fighting in earnest. As did the demon, with three more to join him in the fight. Gabriel held his own and killed one demon with a strong blow to the head, leaving the giant and his twin. Michael's garrison broke his view as they surrounded the marauders and he was quickly carried away, but not before he heard his mentor scream._

_Try as he might, the young angel carrying him couldn't hold him. Castiel ran back to the field and cried in fear when he took in the sight._

_Gabriel wasn't limp in their brother's arms. Instead, he thrashed and screamed in pain when Raphael got anywhere near him. Michael was stroking his hair and was too distracted by feeding his grace slowly into the wound that he didn't notice the fledgling, who was small for his age, rocketing forward until it was too late. Castiel burrowed himself into the crook of his big brother's neck and wailed in terror. Michael made the mistake of trying to pry the fledgling away and was blasted back by a burst of golden grace before he could even touch him. The ruined wing and it's five companions wrapped tightly around their owner's baby brother and cradled him back and forth as Gabriel buried his face in Castiel's hair. Shaking from the poison, he choked, "N-never run away…_ever._"_

_The grace Michael gave him did more harm than good and the only one allowed to even touch him was Castiel. Therefore, Raphael gave him the solemn task of changing the poultice and bandages on both the wound in his wing and the weeping whip marks on his arm. It made him guilty that he had come away with only a snapped bone in his fluffy fledgling wings. He'd heard Raphael say that Gabriel might never be able to fly again if he lived through the poison. If the messenger couldn't fly…_

_But he did. Castiel stayed with him night and day and fussed over him with the Archangels. And he got stronger. After three weeks Gabriel was allowed to try flying with Raphael's supervision and he was to help his mentor flex and tuck the injured appendage. For three weeks, he was the caretaker and he knew now how much his brother would have given up for him._

_End Flashback_

The final set of wings were ordered neatly and shone faintly under the moonlight. Gabriel suddenly flung them backwards in a strange parody of a hug that brought back better memories than bloodshed. Castiel smiled and then howled in protest as he was whipped around with his back to Gabriel instead of the other way around. As the long fingers worked steadily through his own single set of wings, Dean cleared his voice. They had both known he was standing there for at least the past hour listening to them talk, since he wasn't exactly the quietest when gravel was involved. Gabriel turned to look at him, then sighed and muttered, "Go ahead and say it, Winchester. I'm a coward."

Ignoring the comment, Dean said, "I uh, understand now. Why you wouldn't fight. The only way you could have won would be if you killed one brother or the others. Not to mention all the ones in between. Me, I couldn't do that. I couldn't choose Sam's side or dad's when they got into fights over the stupidest stuff. What music they should listen to, what to make for supper…weird shit like that. I only care for about three people in this world and if all of them were in danger of one another, I couldn't imagine hurting either-or. So…sorry."

An apology. From Dean Winchester. Along with a mini speech. Gabriel couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed _way _too hard to fit the situation. Dean smirked at him laughing in the dirt until suddenly, he was covered head to toe in mud. Spitting some out of his mouth, he turned when more familiar laughter drifted to his ears. Sam, with Bobby barely repressing a snicker. Scooping up a ball of muck, he threw it straight at his brother's face and burst into hysterics seconds later. It was three hours before sunrise when they got to bed and left a perfectly clean and hugely grinning archangel, who'd known all along that all they needed was a stupid kids game. Mud wrestling would have to do. And if Gabriel was carrying a speckled feather, well, they _were_ pretty damn soft.

**It be a big one. As promised, there is more fluff although Dean might have been way out of character. Review, my lovelies, and we shall see how long the next one will be.**


	19. Conscience Renewed

**I'm back! So, the first two chapters of the prequel are finished but I want to make more of a back-story for it. Therefore I will post them after another chapter or two of my blathering on like a drunken idiot. Anyways, this is Mannequin 3 rewrite.**

**Disclaimer:…no. Just no. **

Chapter Nineteen: Conscience Renewed

Gabriel wasn't sure what was worse. Having the boys ignore him and when they didn't, yell at him for whatever went wrong on the hunt, or have this awkward and completely random spurts of conversation. It was either because they were worried about another breakdown or they had just realized he could kill them with a piece of string. Not that it really mattered, now that he was gazing at an unconscious, previously convulsing Sam who was clearly remembering his 'special' time with Lucifer. To be clear, that _hadn't_ been his fault. When you're facing down the commander of Heaven when he can't see and has accidentally mistaken you for your _other _brother, things tend to get a little out of hand. The fire was Michael's fault, though. Idiot suddenly decided burning everything to Purgatory come was an acceptable means of combat. Actually, it was. Still. This wasn't his fault, even if he put off extinguishing the fire for around twenty years.

He'd kind of forgotten…

Point is, the Great Wall of Sam needed a patch up and guess where the only person who could do it was? In Madrid. So Gabriel, being the lucky archangel that he was, had the grand opportunity to fix an airtight seal on said Great Wall of Sam in the hopes of the kid saving some semblance of humanity when he woke up. Or if. With Dean having a near panic attack and clearly not in the mood for jokes, Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose, burst a water pipe and glued the eldest Winchester to the wall. Kneeling on the dirty floor of a warehouse wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday and thankfully, Sam didn't want him to either. The flames flickering in the frightened green pools made Gabriel bite his lip guiltily before giving the human a light tap on the cheek. "Up and at 'um, sleeping beauty. Breath before your brother has a heart attack again."

Gabriel freed Dean from his water trap and allowed the brothers to have their moment. It was adorable as always. Sickening, but adorable. Physical contact was rare in Heaven because of the whole 'on the astral planes' thing. The closest you could get was being wrapped in someone's grace like a shiny, shimmering boa constrictor. It was actually quite nice but it was different with the archangels. They could take on a physical form for about five days before the grace needed to hold it left them close to collapsing.

Meanwhile, humans could hold each other and comfort each other without resorting to finding the nearest archangel or Seraphim to do it for them. It verily defeated the entire purpose of comforting in the first place. In other words, Heaven? Not a very empathic place. The emotions running around like a chicken with it's head cut off right now were strong enough for him to feel as Sam rested his head on Deans shoulder while big bro discreetly checked his pulse every five minutes. It was only natural for Gabriel to slip something in the guy's drink to knock him out until morning so he could keep a close eye on Sam's wall. It fluctuated slightly but settled around halfway through the night. He'd definitely have a headache in the morning, though.

Gabriel was proven right the next morning after the lovely Samantha woke up with a strangely pearl-like complexion. After a quick sprint and a prayer to the porcelain god, the intrepid idiots were good to go for breakfast. Coffee, some kind of donut and pain meds that mucho burro Sammy didn't want. Hell, it was even the good stuff! If Gabriel was injured and he didn't know how easy an addiction was he would have popped those suckers down dry! And now they were having that serious talk. "It was a big old face-full of Hell, wasn't it?"

Here we go again…

Before Sam could say anything less than reassuring, Gabriel cut in. "Seriously, this is fun and all, but I spent the night staring at a big shimmering gate with flames and arrows being shot from behind it and nothing happened." That was a lie. "Sam's perfectly safe as long as he doesn't scratch at the walls again." Truth. "That baby isn't coming down quietly." Truth. Not a particularly good one, since if it did come down Sam would be screaming his Law school trained head off. "Listen to the doctor Dean-o. There's no possible way this can happen again." Complete and utter bullshit. The next small section of that wall would come down if he _blew _on it.

Dean seemed satisfied enough. "Alright, I know when someone's bullshitting me." Quelle surprise. "Sam, I want you to shove down all that crap that you did in the past and…let it out into drinking and occasional spurts of bloody violence. It works for me!"

The urge for palm to meet face was nearly overwhelming.

"Anyways, want to take your mind off it? Got a possible lead for a job in Jersey. Maybe we'll get a Snooki sighting." Dean actually laughed at his own joke. It was possibly the worst one he'd heard since Uriel's comedian days. The puns were horrible, really. They all either had the answer God, Michael or demons. The garrison was sadly still laughing at them.

"What's a Snooki?"

Oh dear sweet mother Mary. _What's a_- no. Just, no. Gabriel gave into the urge to face-palm and moaned into his hands. Did he really just ask that? Pausing, he though about it. _What was Snooki? Was she even human? She's short enough to be a succubus or something but she isn't reptilian enough. Huh. Sam-I-Am just made a valid point!_ Dean seemed to think so to. He simply said, "Good question."

After a long, long drive to Jersey and pondering the concept of 'Snooki', they reached the university and were now wearing suits staring at a creepy plastic mannequin that looked like what had happened to Jebediah. He _had _warned the idiot that he would turn him inside-out. The look on his facial muscles was very fulfilling. Gabriel shuddered, though, when Dean started playing with the thing's heart and tossing it around. He honestly didn't know why they were there. It had something to do with a janitor croaking in the middle of a cleanup job that they simply classified as 'suspicious circumstances'. Big Brother apparently wasn't watching since the video cameras weren't filming until after the guy was dead and Dean-o smelled sulphur in a science lab.

Surprise!

Also, Lisa called. That was slightly more puzzling since apparently Dean had shoved the kid into a wall. What's even _more _amazing was that she called _twice _and he still ignored the phone. Tuning in to the current conversation, he twitched slightly when he heard, "-and he rubbed her feet while she watched Glee." That and the sulphuric acid story were the highlights of the afternoon.

Gabriel was getting bored. They hadn't found anything, there was way too much of a soap opera resemblance going on between Dean and Lisa and he had a splinter in his finger. This time Michael didn't even come down to take him to an amusement park. Suffice to say, the Legion was getting worried about the mental wellbeing of anyone and everyone around him. It wasn't as if he had a short supply of tricks to play but the question was, who to play them on? The Winchesters would know who pranked them and Michael had specifically told him not to pull the whole Trickster gig. It sucked like hell. Then again, it didn't suck as much as what would happen when the GWoS fell down and Sam had the aftermath of the Apocalypse shoved down his throat. He couldn't really complain.

He amused himself with the thought of Thor in a dress. Until it just became too damn scarring…purple had _definitely _not been his color.

Fingers tapping a quick little rhythm, Gabriel wondered if there was a connection between the mannequin that set off Sammy's little ghost vibes detector and the dead body in the science lab. The most amazing thing about it was that he was actually doing something to help. Laughably, the only thing he could see doing this was a Trickster or a spirit from beyond the grave. How cliché was that? Where was the fun? It was either a salt n' burn or a quick trip to one of his point of no returns and BAM! they could actually go somewhere nice for once. By they, he meant him. There was no fucking way he was going to take the Winchester twosome with him to the Caribbean. With his luck, Castiel would pop in out of nowhere and suddenly have all the chicks trying to get a piece of him and his silly trench coat.

The idea was quickly vetoed and after a quick glance at the clock, he decided to check on Sam. Sleeping like the dead, no mental functions disappearing and no brain matter adding to the hideous stains already on the floor. One looked like Tom Cruise. Snorting nervously and still staring at the unattractive stain, Gabriel tried to pinpoint the reason for his restlessness. There was this bad feeling in the pit of his stomach which, unless it was indigestion, meant something bad was coming in like a hurricane. Something completely unrelated to what was going on right now but would eventually connect with future problems. Something that made him incredibly hungry and wishing he had thought ahead to this moment.

Two in the morning and already his willpower was fading. It was a new record, a fact that didn't lose it's irony on Gabriel. The angelic messenger of the Lord, who had lived for many millennia, had a craving for something that didn't exist until a few hundred years back. If that wasn't sad he didn't know what was. Sighing, he managed to wait for another half hour before giving in and raising his hand to snap his fingers. He believed a Kit-Kat was in order. However, the picture that came to him right in the middle of his little summoning screwed everything up.

_The security guard at a factory was surrounded by shadows. He didn't know. He called for Johnny before reaching up and fingering the gash that had suddenly appeared on his forehead. Looking at his bloody fingers as he pulled them away, the man breathed, "What the hell?"_

_A shadow behind him. A gleam of white. Why wasn't he able to see them? There was only traces of fear on his face until finally, the vision became clear. He was surrounded by-_ _**You have GOT to be kidding me! Mannequins? I knew there was a reason I hate those things. Shit, how the hell are we going to kill a mannequin?**__- anyways, the guy was surrounded by mannequins and one was holding a pair of scissors. How it planned to use them since he didn't have any joints, Gabriel didn't know, but it wasn't long before Mr. Security Guard had a pole through his chest and a missing arm-_

_**Wait…**_

There was something dripping down his arm in thick streams. Swallowing hard, he slowly looked over and instead of the lovely Kit-Kat bar he'd wanted…_fuck. _Not even daring to drop it, Gabriel got up and gingerly set the severed limb in the sink and called, "Hey, Dean! Are you missing a vital body part by any chance?"

The sound of a gun cocking was unmistakable but the angry Winchester, no matter how seasoned a hunter he was, took one look at the arm and gagged. "Holy _shit. _What the hell did you do?"

Gabriel decided not to approach the subject. Absently walking outside since he didn't want the head, too, he snapped a good long stick off a tree and tentatively poked at the arm. It twitched. A startled shriek escaped his throat and made Dean wince before he pinched the bridge of his nose. Muttering under his breath, he pushed his sleepy younger brother back into his room with a hurriedly muttered, "You don't want to know." Personally, Gabriel didn't want to know either but since it was his mojo that ripped off a dead guy's arm shortly after being murdered he obviously didn't have a choice. Dean left shortly after hearing the story of the severed limb which meant it was his task to find someplace to put the arm. In the end, he just fused it back to the body with grace and much disgust.

Before leaving, Gabriel paused and raised his fingers to the gash. It was in the exact same place as the janitor's. There was a connection now.

At seven o'clock in the morning, Gabriel announced his find. The boys' jaws dropped slightly and Dean peered suspiciously at him. "Okay, who are you and what did you do with Gabriel? Personally I could care less since you actually do something useful once in a while other than completely freak me out." _Dr. Phil, are you there? Paging Dr. Phil. You have a client with repressed emotional trauma on line one. Sheesh, if __**I **__freak him out, wonder what will happen if he meets Raph on a bad day. It still scares the shit out of me… _"So, it's not a Trickster. What do we have?"

"Jack shit, wise ass. Congrats, your back at square one. I really hope this moment comes back to bite you in the-"

"Okay, okay, I get it. M'sorry."

Sweet mother of-did he just _apologize? _Were they in an alternate reality where mannequins come to horrific murderous life, the moon comes up red and Dean-freaking-Winchester says _sorry?_ The look on Gabriel's face must of spoken volumes, not to mention the rustling of his feathers as he prepared to take off. He had hidden them in his pocket dimension after the whole failure attempt at bonding but was currently pulling them out just in case a Haitian zombie broke through the door. Dean rolled his eyes before turning to Sam and stating, "Alright, Sam. Let's leave the drama queen to his, well, whatever that was and go check out the new body."

And then they left.

Sam made an astounding connection between dummies, not meaning himself and Dean, while they were gone. It was amazing what they thought of when Gabriel had practically told them abo-_wait._ Fuck, he hadn't told them. Fine. Sammy 1, Gabriel 0. It didn't matter because he would _always _look better in a suit. He could also walk around without the shrill sound of ghost readers going off in his pants. Meaning, it was a ghost who hopped county lines to fuck with people. Either that or it was a psychopath who managed to hack the computers, took three seconds to put a piece of rebar through a man's chest and disappeared all in ten seconds. With the convenience of having his ghostly grandma looking out for him from above. So unless murderers have suddenly discovered the secrets of time travel it was about as likely as Michael getting laid.

What they were dealing with, just as a recap, was a ghost who for some reason decided to fuck over every rule the hunters lived by. It wasn't attached to anything that they knew of, because, let's face it, they don't know much and it's taken them this long to deduce what he had since day one. The thing was skipping towns and since it didn't have to pay bar tabs, for the obvious reasons, it was after something or someone. The whole situation was starting to feel like a really cheap horror film. What next? Ectoplasm? Cheesy flashbacks showing the poor victim's past and how these bad, bad men did horrible things to her?…actually, that wasn't a bad guess.

Looking over Sam's shoulder and sucking loudly on a lollipop, he stared at the photo of a missing girl and thought, _shit. _If she was really dead then depending on how she died and who killed her, she could be going after them. It was sad. She looked like a sweet girl, innocent smile and big eyes. There wasn't anything wrong with her that he could see. As soon as his brain blurted out that less than normal thought he could have slapped himself. A _conscience. _Gabriel was getting a conscience. God, he'd thought that thing died years ago! Apparently someone renewed his licence because the voice currently telling him _she seemed like a very sweet girl_ and _you should do something to help her_ sounded suspiciously like Castiel. Dear sweet mother of Jesus. The fledgling was in his head. No. Just, no.

Dean's ring tone thankfully shook him out of it although he was pretty sure he had gone into shock for a minute or two. Big surprise when Lisa's name popped up on caller ID. He walked away slightly which was pointless since they could still hear him perfectly fine. The look on his face became pinched and worried as he spoke to Ben. After he hung up, Gabriel gave a knowing smirk better suited to his older form than his teenage one. "Need to go, Dean-o?"

"I can't leave. This is life or death situation we're talking about here an-"

Shoving him into the car and bodily strapping him in, Gabriel drawled, "That's great, cujo. We've got it covered. Now get on the road to save your fairytale ending before it ends up as nothing more than pixie dust."

Before he could get out, Gabriel auto-started the car and waved a cheeky goodbye to the hunter. Turning to Sam, he stated, "This is going to make what we're doing seem easy. You do know that, right? Anyways, our ghost girl had a sister named Isabelle so let's get to her before I fall asleep completely. It's a long walk so start moving."

One interview and several Kleenex boxes later, Gabriel was starting to feel pretty pissed off. He knew that if he started in again with the Trickster business then Michael would take it out on his hide but his brand new conscience was playing havoc with his priorities. To risk butt-paddling of the millennia or avenge a sweet hearted girl just like the ones he used to protect from pedophiles? It was hard to decide and the fact that he was reluctant to listen to his internal Castiel screaming at him to sit down and behave made things a little bit harder. Sam started flipping through an old photo album while Gabriel tried to see a method behind the girls' killings. One photo caught his eye. Isabelle had said her sister was taken advantage of for her kind heart and was the butt end of a lot of pranks. The two dead guys were in a faculty Christmas party photo from two years ago. Nodding silently, Gabriel looked out the window and remembered all the times he had _failed _to keep victims safe from their persecutors. Joan of Arc was one. His first vessel Abel was another.

Gabriel walked with Sam as he phoned Dean. His head was in the clouds and the guilt he was feeling for some obscure reason was blinding. Rain started to fall from the clouds were there weren't any before, which earned him a sad look from the mammoth beside him. A little lip twitch was all he could manage in return. The walk to the factory was long and silent.

They walked around showing Rose's picture and asking questions, getting pretty much the same answers. They all said that they didn't know her or that she was a sweet, shy girl with a heart of gold. All but one guy. Alarm bells went off in his head at the nervous bob in his throat as he spoke of Rose, saying that it was possible that he knew her. But he still didn't know anything. He was lying. Abandoning his silence, Gabriel sang quietly, "Joh-nny boy is a _li-ar."_

The guy looked nervous as hell and Gabriel didn't feel remorse about that in the least. "Look, I have reason to be upset. Those guys that died? They were my friends."

Friends. They were _friends._ He whispered in Sam's mind, _I'll keep an eye on him. _The kid nodded discreetly in his general direction in a failure mode of communication. _You do realize this goes two ways, right dumbass?_

…_right._

Johnny boy beat a hasty retreat with a single backwards glance at Gabriel, who was now humming the mission impossible theme song quite loudly. The fact that he looked like a teenager apparently didn't impress him very much, but when he broke out the Cheshire grin and glimmering eyes Johnny boy looked ready to piss himself. He was _soooo _guilty looking. In fact, he looked so much like Balthazar after he'd 'borrowed' Gabriel's horn that it was incredibly hard not to laugh. At the time of that incident the first thing he'd done was scream and faint in a very dramatic swoon. Nobody ever seemed to catch him when he did that…Fortunately for Johnny boy, he wasn't going to scream and if he did Lucifer would pop in when nobody was looking to give him a sad, chastising look that he'd perfected over years of listening to Michael rant. The motto 'why use four words when four million would do' got pretty old after a while. Millions of years later, the archangel who had been banished from heaven was still the only one who could make Gabriel feel bad for what he did.

The day passed with little excitement. Lucifer scolded him for dropping a giant egg on some asshat's corvet while Michael tried in vain to stop his little brother from setting the block on fire just to watch the pretty colors. They were drowned out by a slight ripple in the present just after nightfall. _Johnny boy is calling someone. _Oh, joy.

"_**Why **__am I flipping out? I-I Don't know, maybe because of the Feds? Maybe because Dave and Steve are freakin' dead? Look, no…no. Just, call me later."_

_Johnny hung up the phone and-__**aw, man! I don't wanna watch this again! The mannequins are creepy as hell and ever since the science lab, they remind me of that idiot Jebediah. **__So, blood dripping from the gash suddenly appearing on his forehead along with icy breath that was in no way due to his cold, blackhole of a heart. He looked uglier than usual with his face all scrunched up and it vaguely reminded Gabriel of a newborn baby. Minus the hair, of course. The style that the Dark Ages forgot. At least it wasn't the bowl cut. Turn around and… mannequin! Then Sam. __**What the hell? The kid was sitting ten feet away from me five minutes ago!**_

This pissed him off to no end. Sighing, Gabriel opened his wings and flew in his Hello Kitty boxers to the factory. He immediately wished he had drunk a gallon of Coffee beforehand. Ignoring the wide-eyed look from the village idiot as he literally popped out of nowhere, the archangel promptly flicked him on the head and drawled, "Really, Johnny? Your friends all die in the exact same way and the first thing you do after we tell you is run off into an uninhabited warehouse full of creepy-ass mannequins. On a scale of one to ten for most stupid ideas ever, this one rates under stealing a gun off of a JTF2 sniper. But just barely."

"What the hell is going on?" Johnny really had nothing under all that hair.

"That was a ghost trying to kill you for being a dick."

Gabriel was rooting for the ghost, by the way.

Slapping him lightly on the back of the head, Gabriel said happily, "Long story short, you and your friends are all assholes who deserve to suffer in the deepest of the nine circles of Hell. That girl, Rose? She's come back as a vengeful spirit to put a can of whoop-ass on the idiots who killed her."

Sam interjected, "Your lucky you were the most suspicious interview of all time. I figured something like this would happen." As he spread the salt on every crevice he could see, Sam pulled a Lucifer and started berating the guy. " Look, your going to end up like your friends unless you tell me what you did to Rose. Do you want me to help you or not?"

So he did. And it was heartbreaking. They played with her heart and soul, giving her a fake admirer all because they thought she was one of the most pathetic things they had ever seen. They got her excited about the 'date' and instead, when she turned the chair around a mannequin fell out of the seat. They laughed at her and broke her heart all for the sake of playing her like a fool. She didn't cry in front of . Rose was too broken for that. They tried to make her laugh with them and when she told them to go to hell, the fat one grabbed her arm. When she pulled away, Rose tripped and bashed her head against the table corner. That was it. They had as good as killed her.

Gabriel had played the Trickster for centuries and he had never thought about the consequences before. Rose had had a family. A very small one but still worth living for. Had any of his targets had a family who would miss them? Even if they were hypocritical assholes who didn't give a damn for anyone else, was it possible for them to be missed? Did any of them have children waiting up until the midnight hours just to give hugs? Bitterness touched his tongue at the thought and he found that he couldn't fault Johnny or his friends for what they did. It pissed him off to no end but who was he, who killed thousands of people for his own amusement, to judge? All of the tricks he had laughed at weighed on him because of this one girl.

He knew _why _he had done it. After hiding and grieving for so long Gabriel had wanted to get something, _anything _out of the reason for his beautiful brother's fall from grace. It wasn't fair to anyone what he did and that's why he did it. Gabriel followed Sam silently when he rushed off to burn the body without a backwards glance at the unfortunate Trickster.

The bones burnt without even a hint of violence towards the grim looking hunter. He made the call to Johnny, told him to start over and try not to be a jackass. That was it. The whole thing slightly reminded him of Lovely Bones only with an older ghost and a family unaware of why or how she died. There wasn't a _real _happy ending and as the bones burnt and Sam turned away, Gabriel was struck with a sense of déjà vu for some reason. He didn't know why either. All he knew was that it wasn't over.

And he was proven right by the earth shattering vision that nearly made him piss himself laughing. Johnny boy was in love with a _mannequin. _As in undying total devotion to it, talking to the creepy looking thing and all that. Gabriel got a sick sense of satisfaction when it turned it's head and smiled at him. After all, he lives on top of a pub. The look on Sam's face when he got the news was awesome, only surpassed when he made eye contact with the female mannequin named Cindy. It was sad just how such humour Gabriel was deriving from this but once a Trickster, always a Trickster. Apparently his conscience had decided to desert him again for inexplicable reasons and he was thanking God for every last second of his lack of morality.

Of course, the fact that burning the body didn't work meant that they had to make another stop at Isabelle's place. This case was turning out to be a long one and Gabriel was getting tired of helping. He was definitely going to Cancun after this. Or maybe the Bahamas. Michael was demanding he come back to Heaven so he could take control of Balthazar for a while so really, he had a feeling it was going to be the Galapagos. It was the only place on Earth shielded from an archangel's sight. A little piece of Eden, actually. Gabriel was never going to get there, however, if Isabelle didn't give up whatever was holding Rose here. As it turns out, she couldn't.

"A kidney?" he deadpanned. This was…_wow._

And so chuckleheads one and two met, decided on Hoodoo in order to patch up the whole ghostly kidney thing and Dean got chased by his own car. Gabriel actually felt kind of bad, just standing around and watching them panic and Dean trying hard not to smash up the Impala. He failed, though. In the end, it went through a sheet of glass in the storefront of some place in the middle of nowhere. Everything was all fine and dandy until he noticed an extra ornament in Isabelle. _In, _not on. _Guess we won't need Hoodoo after all._ There was something metal sticking out from her stomach and finally, Rose flickered and whispered, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this."

Gabriel looked at her and cooed, "It isn't your fault, Rosie-Posie. Tell you what though. If you leave and promise not to keep killing, I'll keep Isabelle alive."

Rose looked at him and breathed, "Please. I don't want her to die like I did."

And so it was that before she could take her last breath, Isabelle was pulled back with the power of an archangel and her sister's guidance all in the span of three seconds. Meanwhile, the knuckleheads were still looking quite confused when a spurt of blood came from the previously dying woman's mouth before she coughed and started to breath again. There wasn't a scratch on her. Before they could ask any questions, he snorted and asked, "Haven't you looked me up yet? Read a book and it will tell you all you need to know."

Gabriel sighed and looked up under the shade of a tree in Singer's Salvage Yard. It had been a strange couple of days and after being pushed through a store by a poltergeist, the Impala had a distinct lack of motion when Dean moved to start her. So Gabriel poofed them here and now the brothers were talking seriously, which he wanted no part of. He was only out here because the sun made his hair glitter. Fingers started running through said hair and he hoped to God it wasn't Bobby. A quick glance revealed Lucifer in a vessel looking strangely like Pauly D. _Wait… _

Snorting, Gabriel choked out, "Seriously? Why did you get one of those assholes off of Jersey Shore?…Oh my God, he's your second true vessel, isn't he?"

The glare he got for that one only made him laugh harder. A painful tug on his hair and Lucifer was gone without even saying a word. He didn't have to. The message was pretty clear that no matter what he did, his brothers would back him up. That, and the fang he found Lucifer had slipped into his hand was a threat from the Hounds. Apparently, Raphael was no good at chase games.

It was the blood specks that told him that part.

**Oh, happy day! I finally finished chapter 19! And I'm over fifty reviews! BABY GABRIEL HUGS!**


	20. The Village Idiot

**Hello, m'dears! I am currently holed up inside to escape a cold breeze and thought, why not write another chapter? The last one had Gabriel telling the Winchester boys to look up his name so there's that, as well as a few stories from his past. Enjoy!**

Chapter Twenty: The Village Idiot

Fresh air.

After an incident with a coffee machine on it's last legs he'd been told to get some. However, it was highly debatable as to whether or not the air was _fresh. _Considering it was blowing long golden hair straight up his left nostril and bringing with it the delicious scent of tar and decay, Gabriel was honestly considering a trip to Antarctica. At least there the smell doesn't carry. Plus, he loved those fluffy little penguins that always seemed to want to cuddle with him. They were extremely clumsy though. A few just fell over an-…oh. Face falling, Gabriel slumped over with a pout as Raphael laughed hysterically at his completely obvious revelation that really should have been made years ago. If something falls over and doesn't get back up then it's dead. Or having some sort of seizure. Either one is plausible. Lucifer's quiet chuckles warmed his heart since the Morning Star didn't laugh very often, if ever. Michael laughed once every Messiah. Don't even get him _started _on Castiel…

Actually, he had never seen the kid laugh.

_Well, that's depressing, _thought Gabriel as he frowned speculatively at a beetle doing it's damndest to crawl up his pants. He hoped it wouldn't, as the thing had very sharp-looking pincers that would be very painful in a number of places. An idea suddenly came to him. After all, Sam had been sacked pretty awesomely in the Japanese game show he'd dumped them in during TV land. Why not give Dean a little love nip? Pausing, he thought over the repercussions of that last one and shuddered. Gabriel may be a very open minded angel who had, on occasion, tried a few new things, but Dean Winchester? Oh God. Even if some day he managed to get drunk off his ass, Gabriel would much rather it be a complete stranger than a guy he had basically sworn to live with in relative harmony. At least then he could make a clean get-a-way.

Abruptly deciding against using the beetle for his own cause and realizing fresh air was hard to come by, not to mention the newspaper he'd just gotten in the face, Gabriel retreated to the less than safe indoors. Nobody shot him in the balls yet so there was a miracle in there somewhere. Absently wandering through the dusty halls in search of an idiot to annoy, he came upon a curious sight. Three men and an angel all gathered around a tiny book that he could imagine had even tinier writing. All of them had their heads tilted at the same angle and Bobby was muttering, "I can't see a goddamn thing…"

Walking over to them and shoving reading glasses onto the old man's face, Gabriel laughed when he saw just what they were all looking at. Said laughter died when he saw the so called picture of him on the next page. _Holy shit! What is that? _It wasn't a man or a woman so apparently, he was portrayed as a hermaphrodite judging by the facial features. If it was a woman, Gabriel was going back in time and shoving someone's head _so far up his ass _he'd swear he was in China. Then again, if it was a man the guy was one hell of a failure. The features were soft and feminine but there wasn't a breast in sight. Taking the book and turning the page, he snorted when he saw the cherubs in diapers. Oh, if only. Currently in heaven there were hundreds of butt-naked little angels roaming free and in the wild. Apparently, the rest of the heavenly host wore togas. Although what Michael was wearing looked infinitely more like a dress than a bed sheet.

That one got a laugh from Lucifer. At least until he saw the horns. _It was one time! You dared me to paint myself red for a Pagan feast father was making us go to. Then Coyote showed up and gave me a Ram's horns!_

…_then how do you explain the tail?_

No comment. Out of all of them the only one who didn't look like a total tool was Ariella. She was quite pleased with herself. Bobby snatched it back and flipped to the part about archangels in the index before discovering **Gabriel **wasn't in there. Sighing, he told them, "Look for Jibrail. They always change my name in these things. Of course, the others have the exact same spelling. Michael, Luci and Raph never get confused but no. The one time somebody calls for me on earth they summon some asshole with an close resemblance to my name. Jibrail isn't even a messenger so they probably would have been better off asking for Castiel but they always call for the archangels. Not to mention-"

"Brother, I believe we get the general idea," Castiel murmured dryly. Not even a smile.

"Really? I'm glad. Maybe you can explain to me why I look like a girl in most of them damn paintings. I mean, come on! The whole Jesus thing, I was in the body of a _male _teenager. The stables? _Male _child. Heck, Moses parting the waters I was right beside him in the vessel of an old slave guy! Again, male. Helping Metatron and Dad press the symbol into Cain's forehead, while extremely painful to watch and gory as hell, was done as a man. So why do you people constantly make me a woman?" Gabriel complained. Seeing the intrigued look on Bobby's face made him groan. "I'm going to regret bringing this up aren't I?"

He did. Bobby promptly asked, "What did the sign look like?"

"Like none of your business. Seriously, only three angels know what the thing looks like and two of them are me and Metatron. If God meant for men to be able to kill everyone who so much as gave them a paper cut he would have made you all sociopaths. Let me tell you, when Cain got married? There was no getting rough with _his _wife. He married at least twelve before he decided to become a eunuch. We all winced at _that_ one. If Cain's mark became public to even you hunters, I would have hell to pay. Literally. As in, I would go to Purgatory and drag all of you down with me for all of eternity or until Metatron decided to rip the mark off. Which would kill you. So, any questions?"

Sam piped up, "Why were you beside Moses when he was parting the red sea?"

He was kidding. He _had _to be kidding. Castiel looked as though he were about to bash his head against the wall but the other two were looking damn intent. Gaping at them incredulously, Gabriel's mouth did an amazing impression of the first fish to walk the earth as he sputtered in soundless disbelief. Had they really not noticed? Especially Dean since he'd used hydro kinesis on him more than once. After the dream of Pestilence or even during Sammy's little freak-out, he'd threatened them and even slammed Dean into a wall to get some space. Shit. Just, _shit._ Looking at Castiel, he gestured between the three of them and squeaked helplessly. He got the hint.

"Gabriel is the archangel representing water. He created the oceans and lakes during the creation of this planet as well as supplying many species of creatures. The role he played in human creation is important as well, since your bodies are over half water. God didn't want one man to have so much power so he sent Gabriel to take the form of an elderly slave and part the waters for Moses. Of course, dropping it on the Egyptian king's army was just to show up Michael and Raphael after the blood and fire. Father didn't approve but he couldn't exactly fault him without also disciplining half of the Legion, as they helped with the killing."

They didn't exactly look like they believed it so Gabriel promptly dredged up a lake in Bobby's back yard and happily filled it with platypuses and piranhas that didn't eat each other. Pointing calmly outside the window and waiting for them to get up, he also added a dolphin to the mix just because they always looked so happy. Their ancestors? Absolutely terrifying. Looked somewhat like a cross between a whale and a crocodile with a hint of tuna. It was a prototype. It nearly ate him. Therefore, they were no longer prototypes and became nonexistent. Gabriel couldn't even _imagine _how that would of evolved. Would it grow bigger than a blue whale? Or would it shrink down to the size of a sardine and eat through the hulls of ships? Anywho, as soon as they were looking the dolphin did a flip and sang happily so that was enough for him.

Of course, the others had to show off too so now there was a veritable Amazon growing around his lake from Ariella as well as a wall of fire from Michael, a mini tornado from Raphael and a field of ice roses from Lucifer. When asked who made them he just said it was Metatron. It was okay, since evidently he wasn't in the tiny book with even tinier writing. Someone had torn out the page about him though so now he had to tell his life story and all the accomplishments. Basically, it was like a résumé with infinitely more details since he's been around since before the earth and universe began. There weren't many highlights, though. The first thing he'd done as a messenger was fly through a syren-infested swamp to deliver the idea of fire to a caveman eating nutritious bugs off of his mate's chest hair. Needless to say, Raphael had given him therapy for a year or two.

There's a reason women don't have chest hair.

Shuddering slightly at the mental image and resulting shrieks from several members of the garrison, also earning him a rebuke from Raphael, he pushed past the memory of his first message. It was scarring enough the first time. The chuckleheads and Bobby were now outside in their new oasis and the ever sensitive Samantha decided to pick an ice rose to give it a whiff. Of course, that was a terrible idea. Before he could shout at the idiot there was a massive thorn growing through his hand and Michael was bitching to Lucifer about having dangerous objects around children. The dangerous eventually became deadly as Sam just stared at the thing as severe frostbite spread from the wound like poison. _Nice one, Luci. Give the curious idiot a poisonous plant to play with._

_**This wasn't my idea, so don't blame me. Ariella wanted ice roses to go with her jungle.**_

_Don't you dare blame this on me, you ass! I didn't TELL you to make them frostburn anyone who got tangled in the thorns._

**Gabriel, why weren't you keeping a closer eye on the humans? You know they don't have a survival instinct or common sense to guide their thoughts and actions. I'm leaving you to deal with this**.

Ah, Michael. He just _had _to butt in there somewhere. Snorting dryly, Gabriel flew quickly through the veritable deathtrap of absolute randomness and simply watched as the idiots panicked. Leaning against the normal wall, he hummed a tune as he waited patiently for his moment. This would also bring many exclamations and guns pointed his way but as long as there was no holy oil, screw them. He wasn't moving until Sam was good and dead. Which ended up being a long time in coming. Castiel poured his grace into healing the wound until he gave out completely while Dean held his convulsing brother to his chest in a moment reminiscent of the warehouse. It was pretty fucking adorable. Castiel finally noticed him and pulled him over to the young Winchester, who now had black ice running through his veins about three inches away from his heart. Rolling his eyes to the heavens, Gabriel started to whistle Dixie as he waited for another ten minutes for the ice to reach Gigantor's ticker.

It took over three hours for him to die.

By this time Dean had a gun pointed at his head and kept whispering, 'you son of a bitch' while Castiel stared at him in betrayal. Bobby was sitting somberly near the lake. That last one made him raise his eyebrow, until he realized the old man was pushing his almost-son into the waters. Dean watched with the gun still pointed squarely at Gabriel. Castiel also decided to press his own archangel blade against his throat with a mildly shaking hand. He was hurt. What, did they think he _wanted _Sam to die? The last guy he tried to heal turned into a turkey and since he was pretty sure Dean didn't want his brother as Thanksgiving dinner, Gabriel figured he'd wait a while. Sighing, he teleported over to Bobby before he could put the kid in the lake and…great. There were the piranhas. The three of them watched in horror as Sam was quickly stripped of flesh by thousands of sharp teeth. Even Michael winced a little. He just pinched his forehead and drawled, "You just had to make this harder, didn't you?"

The weapons were pointed at him yet again but now he jut pushed them aside. Walking into the water and mentally telling his piranhas to back off, he gathered what was left of the deceased Sam Winchester and teleported them to shore before going there himself. Muttering all the while, Gabriel all put pulled grace from his body and began to form it into Enochian sigils that even Castiel didn't know. Placing them on and around Sam's body, he glared at them as he slowly sank beneath the ground. It was like an elevator that went about an inch a minute but at least he didn't have far to go. Sam's soul was trying to reach Heaven while being dragged by the ice into Hell. Grabbing hold of one arm and heaving, Gabriel took the soul in the centre of his chest near his vessel's heart. It was bloody painful!

Muttering louder as the elevator rose to the top, he promptly ignored the humans and said to Castiel, "Your boys are idiots, you know that? Singer isn't much better. Who the hell do you think Michael dredged the power from to reach Dean in Hell? He was going for God but reached me instead. Now I have to piece together a body, mend the original damage all while having Sam's soul imbedded in my vessel. I hope you're happy."

He was. For a guy that didn't show much emotion other than deadpan, he looked pretty damn excited. The idjit duo finally gained comprehension on the subject after the reference to Hell. To make matters worse, angels bound to earth suddenly decided to drop by for a favor. Tiphiel brought a woman he'd been courting who'd been killed by demons, Haliel brought three children who'd seen his true form and Ariel decided she was going to make him resurrect twenty abused teenagers for her to mother. After at least a dozen trips Gabriel's vessel was getting crowded and the strain was agony. When _Crowley _showed up asking for a favor, Gabriel instantly gave him the finger and banished him to the middle of the arctic ocean. He was already trembling like a drug addict because of the sheer number of souls he was carrying. Walking stiffly into the centre of all the bodies and glaring at Ariel, he snapped, "I swear to Father, if you bring just _one more _dead baby I'll-

**Get on with it, Gabriel.**

And Michael joins the party. Moaning at the intrusion, he hissed, "Fine, then. Let me just pull another archangel out of my ass so I can fricking resurrect about thirty people at the same fucking time. I wonder how long it'll take to turn me inside-out?"

The flood of grace was immediate. Gabriel didn't know whether to be grateful to his brothers(and sister)for their extra power or cry because they didn't remember the first time he did this. Stupid Lazarus. His grace took _years _to recover from it, not to mention the pain. Taking a deep breath, he let the souls tear themselves free of his vessel, all the while biting back a scream. Ariella caressed his grace soothingly while, unfortunately, both Michael and Raphael recoiled. The result was blood pouring from his eyes as the power drain became too much. Dean was squinting in the golden glow of his sheer power, even though his eyes were shut. The Enochian sigils he had placed near he bodies quivered and faded against their skin while drifting towards the heart, carrying the souls with them. Sam jackknifed up with a gasp as he started hyperventilating which, unintentionally, made a rhythm with Gabriel's heavy breathing. Before she left with her brood, Ariella carried him to the couch and let him face-plant onto the cushions. Mentally giving his brothers the finger, Gabriel just breathed.

The rejoicing Winchester brothers ignored him completely when they practically ripped the door down in Dean's haste to check his idiot over for injuries. The owner of the fine establishment thoughtfully dropped ice water over his head and shrugged when he didn't move while Castiel was still angry at him, therefore completely ignoring his existence. At least until the pain set in. The pillows muffled his screams as his body started to twitch spastically in response to the lack of souls powering his true form, like an addict in withdrawal. After five minutes of this, little brother thoughtfully flew him up into one of the bedrooms while staring at him as if he were a bug under a microscope. Ariella did one more favor to the world and muted the sounds coming from the room so he could finally scream.

Castiel started rushing around like a chicken with it's head cut off while Raphael was shrieking instructions in their heads until the fledgling finally listened. Gabriel was pushed onto his stomach so he could release his six straining wings. While the overprotective brothers soothed the edges of his shattered grace, the overprotective little brother ran his fingers through golden wings. The feathers were dull with the occasional burst of brilliant light as Michael, Lucifer and Raphael worked seamlessly to repair what was left of the core of his power. By the time Sam and Dean remembered who he was Gabriel had managed to fall into a light doze…that was promptly broken when all three of the blights in his life came in with beer and even more questions. The urge to scream again just for the hell of it brought more scolding from Michael, though gentler, and Lucifer's promise to come up with good revenge for his baby brother.

Sam looked close to overjoyed when he saw Gabriel's wings and was surprisingly gentle when he took one of them. Actually, they all took one though Sam was more careful about it. He was pretty sure the elder Winchester just liked causing him pain. Bobby was indifferent though he clearly still wanted to pluck him and use the feathers to make pillows. All in all, it could have been worse but at least there were no villagers trying to drain him of blood and dance around with his severed wings in pieces right in the centre of a fire. For God-fearing people, they sure as hell hadn't been very fearful of the archangel they'd just pulled from Heaven. The pain was slightly similar to it and other than that much more pleasant, since two out of four people holding his wings weren't attempting to tear them to shreds with nothing but fingernails.

The newly resurrected Winchester was acting pretty shy and Gabriel hoped to God he wasn't about to pronounce his undying love for him. He may be less annoyed by Sam than his idiot older brother and it was possible he actually liked the guy, it still didn't mean he wanted to get _that _close to him. So it was a slight relief when he asked, "How did you do that, Gabriel? All I remember is freezing from the inside and suddenly, it's like being dumped in a vat of warm water without drowning. I thought only God could give the power of resurrection."

Well, he didn't have to _describe_ it since Gabriel had kinda been there too. Obviously. Giving them a deadpan look he said, "Exactly."

He actually looked like he believed it for a second. Then he grinned and lightly smacked him on the back of the head in a very Gibbs-like manner that also reminded him of when Lucifer cuffed him on the ears. As a result, he didn't smite the kid and instead explained, "I'm the angel of resurrection. That's my job and the last time I was contacted by God, it was him telling me to let Castiel dredge up thing 1 over there from his new employment in the pit. So I channeled grace to him every time I thought he was going to get stuck between Heaven and Hell then physically went there to help push him to the surface. Of course, after I fell with Mikey and Luci God brought back Cas then channeled power through him to bring back Bobby so there was no strain on me. Therefore, I could shield Sam-I-Am from the worst of it until Lucifer decided to get back at me for shoving them both in for around ten years. Sorry about that, by the way."

This was beginning to turn into a show and tell. First with the water and then with the bringing-an-idiot-back-from-six-feet-under. It was extremely sad that they didn't know what the archangels represented since it was practically screamed in Sunday school. Gabriel was mercy, messenger, strength and justice. Raphael was healer and wind while Michael was champion, fire and the eldest. Lucifer of course was ice, while Ariella was earth, a protector for everything and everyone as well as a connector between land and sky. She also had a thing for protecting Sam Winchester but was currently keeping Adam safe and hidden from anyone searching to destroy Michael's other vessel. Somewhere in Kentucky, or at least surrounded by corn.

Breaking from his thoughts, he blinked up at Castiel as the fledgling requested the story of Jesus. Gabriel smacked his head repeatedly off the headboard on the bed and moaned at the memory of Mary Magdalene. God, the woman had been an absolute horror. She may have been chosen by God to bear his child but it was only because she was old enough and still a virgin. He really didn't want to remember their first meeting. Of course, he then made the mistake of looking into Castiel's expectant puppy dog eyes and suddenly he had the urge to tell the story before said eyes started to tear up. He would know. He had taught that trick to every fledgling in Heaven. Snorting nervously, he grinned. "Aren't you a little old for stories, Cassie? I told this one to you at least a million times before I left Heaven. You should have memorized it by now."

He was adamant. Shit. "Alright. So around two thousand years ago the last Messiah was born. Consequently, it was the last time I ever heard Mike laugh. Moving on. So God called me from wherever he went because he wanted me to find some woman named Mary Magdalene to give birth to his child. I had no idea why or how since God having sex with, well, anyone was pretty much a taboo anywhere. You wouldn't believe the grief I got for that one… I collected a piece of his grace, found Mary and was scared to death for the first time in a millennia or more. The woman had the mouth of a sailor and the skills of a car salesman. See, she wasn't exactly a beautiful woman after a little problem with pox when she was little so that was the main reason she was still a virgin. Therefore, I had to get her a husband before I could get the bitch pregnant. Problem was that the guy she wanted was way above her station and there was no way he would have her. But, there was one guy who thought she was one of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen. The poor sucker was Joseph, which was pretty much a given.

After gently pointing out that there was no way in hell the king's son was going to fall in love with her, she ran off crying and I learned that Joseph had an even worse mouth than she did. He could also speak in three languages so there was some ingenuity in there. He went after her and, BAM! Love at first sight. Then I went back for what felt like the thousandth time to ask her to bear the child of God. Until Joseph explained that Mary was partially deaf so she couldn't hear me when I asked her to get pregnant. I didn't get very far with that one. Eventually, I just healed her completely and fortunately didn't turn her into a piece of poultry like that guy in Egypt years later. It also proved I was an archangel since nobody had believed me from the start. Now Mary was beautiful and able to hear fully and I realized I'd been played for a sucker. She'd gotten exactly what she wanted in the first place. In the end all it took was three years and the promise to be there for the birth of the child so no bandits could kill her or something. Mary was a paranoid broad.

I agreed and then I could finally get out of that hellhole before some rapist took a liking to the pretty boy hanging around town. It was at that point that Raphael became all but deranged after an incident that nearly killed Michael and we finally realized that there were no new fledglings being created. The archangels had the ability to create them but there was no way in hell we trusted each other enough to summon the grace to do it. Seriously, collapsing after making a mini you in front of people who may kill you in your sleep brings out the paranoia like you wouldn't believe. We decided after much arguing that the baby would probably make a good angel when he died so agreed that no matter what he was going to Heaven. That took a full eight months to deal with and then the very pregnant Mary decided she was going to visit her parents very, very late into the night. Joseph was a patsy and couldn't deny her anything so off they went. I had to follow them since God casually informed me from very far away that she was going to give birth halfway through the long trip. I got a nice tan from it, though.

As it turns out Mary mellowed with the whole birth of a Messiah thing so she didn't scream curses at me the whole way to Nazareth. It was actually creepy how often she smiled but at least she was happy. They both were. Until the labor pains started. Women are scary when they get like that, you know. She demanded I make room for them in the inn until I reminded her that I wasn't God and that was exactly what it would take to get someone out in the storm that blew in three hours before. There was a leaky old stable, though, so I had to lie on the roof and spread all six wings after God requested that I keep them dry. There was also a horse that needed convincing to give up it's blanket for the little thing after it was born. My job was finally over so I took the horn and played a song in relief. For reasons unknown, three _more _messengers decided it was the perfect time to see what I'd been doing for the past four years and joined in. The combined grace made it look like a star since I'd pretty much wasted my vessel and had abandoned it in an alleyway somewhere. Don't worry, he was fine.

Ariella decided to greet the child with an animal symphony that nearly drowned us out and God, for some inexplicable reason, wanted everyone to meet the squirt. Therefore the kings, Sheppards and whoever else. The sad thing is, the kings brought him stuff for when he died, which pissed off Mary to no end. It also made me laugh my ass off which didn't exactly help matters. After that, I left and was extremely happy when Jesus screwed over Heaven with the whole coming back thing. It was like a little piece of me ended up in there. So, that's the story."

Castiel looked like a kicked puppy. "That's not the story you told me. What happened to Joseph saving her from demons or the little boy who played the drums?"

Shit. The fledgling had been too young for the real thing since the majority of it had swear words out the wazoo, so Gabriel had turned it into a fledgling tale. Nowhere close to the real thing. At least now he knew where the Little Drummer Boy song came in. He had dug himself into this hole and now he was going to have to get himself out. Either that or someone's going to come along and dump even more crap on his head. Like Dean, who abruptly decided he wanted to tighten his grip on the wing he was holding while holding back laughter. Grunting irritably, Gabriel attempted, "Well, I may have taken a few liberties with the story but if I just told you I stalked them for four years you would have fallen asleep."

"It was a bedtime story, Gabriel. I would have fallen asleep anyways."

Sam interrupted. "I thought angels didn't sleep."

Ah, great. "Okay, it's one in the morning so I'll make this quick. Fledglings up to the age of three thousand years old need naps and sleep regularly. Castiel is just passed the age where he doesn't need sleep anymore period. That's it, that's all now go the fuck to sleep."

"Alright, what about the resurrection? Did you do that?" Sam asked curiously, unaware that a very sore and cranky archangel was very close to choking him with his own blood. Unfortunately it would defeat the purpose of bringing him back after Lucifer killed him so Gabriel would have to endure. Not to mention how pissed Michael and Ariella would be with him. In the end, he just sighed and listened to baby Winchester babble on about the importance of learning the truth on religion as it could settle many disputes between factions. How they would site their sources, Gabriel had to idea. _An angel told me so _isn't exactly accepted on Wikipedia. Sam eventually realized he was being ignored and Castiel gave him puppy eyes again to make him reconsider. "Okay. Fine. Swear to God this is the last one."

"So, yeah, I left Heaven like a demon out of Hell but decided to keep an eye on my half brother. He grew up and it was creepy, too, because he never cried when he was supposed to. Mary was a shockingly good mother and I think she only swore a grand total of two times during the kids' stint as Messiah. They lived in Nazareth in a cozy little place and left sometimes to go traveling. Blah, blah, blah. Point is, the guy had a good childhood until he got stapled to a cross and became a human thorn bush. Seriously though, Jesus was a good guy. I met him a few times when he was living, like, actually met him and not stalking him from afar. I watched him heal blind men, give food to poor people, the works. World's first humanitarian. When he died a lot of belief in God and angels went with him since many people believed we had let it happen. In truth, even _I _didn't know he would die. However, because of the way he went Jesus went all ghosty on us and refused to leave.

Me and a bunch of other angels who left Heaven thought, why not piss in Mikey's wheat germ one last time? and we helped him out. We gave him enough grace to maintain form while going around to the apostles and helping the lost get their faith back. It got tiring after a while and eventually, Jesus agreed to go to Eden. He was a little ticked off about the whole war in Heaven thing and how it would affect humans when Luci broke his cage and it worried him. I helped write the bible and put all of the signs of the apocalypse into it. The damn thing probably weighed more than a sheep, too. So Jesus went to Eden and agreed to take Joshua's place as it's caretaker for as long as he needed a break. The end."

Sam didn't exactly look satisfied but did Gabriel care? No. Not in the slightest. Jesus was a good guy and deserved to be remembered, yeah, but by people who actually new him like John. Yes, they had met a few times and technically he was the one who got Mary preggo, but he didn't _really know him. Chances are that he could have but he knew God was keeping a close eye on his son and, well, it hurt. Gabriel had been abandoned outside Heaven's golden gates with nobody around but the deer and trees. It had taken centuries to find himself and he'd been nameless until his Father, nearly hysterical in his sobbing, named him the Strength of God. Meanwhile, there was a child on earth being watched and crooned over for just being himself when Gabriel had all but died to get his brothers to see him. Bitterness doesn't begin to cover it._

_Castiel must have seen the darkness lurking behind his eyes because he took the boys and after giving him a slight smile, left him alone. Then Lucifer was there, stroking his golden hair to try banishing the old memories still haunting him. Ariella flowed into the room with a ready influx of support on the tip of her tongue while Michael and Raphael fussed endlessly over the state of his wings. Apparently, Dean had been rubbing the feathers backwards. There was guilt and grief in their eyes for what had been done to his childhood, until Lucifer whispered in his ear, "You were still a spoiled child, Gabe."_

_That started a whole new war. At least this one used pillows._


	21. Mea Culpa

**Yet again there is not a thing to do, so I shall try to write a chapter directly involving Gabriel's past. There's this movie with a demon called Legion, which may or may not be **_**called **_**Legion, that I am taking this from. It won't have as much humor in it and as I have this listed under angst, though there is a distinct lack of said genre in the story, it's my current goal to add a bit. There. Okay, here's the actual chapter.**

Chapter Twenty One: Mea Culpa

There are many things even an archangel has never seen. For instance, Michael hasn't seen Lady Liberty while Lucifer was too into the whole world destroyer thing to give a flying fuck about anything the big blue marble had to offer. Gabriel, however, had thought he'd seen it all. Until Dean forced him and Sam to see some guy trying to make the world's biggest rubber band ball. Not that he actually _wanted _to see it, mind you. In fact he was one elastic-sounding snap away from becoming brain dead due to lack of proper entertainment. Sam had fallen asleep by the two hour mark and he suspected this was Dean's way of getting them both out of the hotel room for reasons better not left to the imagination. Not that he was complaining about actually being warned rather than walking in on it like he did three days ago. Gabriel was actually very thankful for it. But he could have at least picked out a movie and dropped them off at the theatre. This was just…mind blowingly terrible. The stuff that only Michael likes

You know it's bad when even Michael's eyes start to glaze.

Big brother's dubious entertainment methods aside, he was also grounded. Literally. After the latest incident involving Michael's poor fighting force and several jars of Mayonnaise, it had been a unanimous agreement that he would stay out of Heaven for at least two weeks while the hotheads cooled down. If he hadn't had his wings and grace temporarily bound by Lucifer, Gabriel would have been gone in a heartbeat. It was a bitch because his wings were itching terribly and he had the urge to break his promise to his brothers and kill the man with a giant elastic around the throat. An ominous rumble of thunder with lightning that was a startling shade of red told him exactly what Michael thought of that. It also struck the rubber band ball and melted it down to a puddle just as the guy went to tear open a new package.

Ignoring the wide-eyed Sam, Gabriel closed his eyes and nearly burst into grateful tears. Since he was all but human now the only way to thank _God _for the sudden miracle was to drop to his knees and scream, "'tis the will of God! In the name of the archangel Michael, I command you to cease your efforts…and get a life. Seriously, you're what, twenty three? Go find a girlfriend and have sex in the backseat of your parent's car for all I care just don't. Try. _Again._"

At this point he remembered that he could, in fact, walk to somewhere else as there was nothing binding his legs. Although there were some men in clean white coats that he was 99.9% sure were here to take him away Gabriel was just about positive he could outrun them. Sam? Not so much. He was so drowsy his giraffe legs were getting tangled just about everywhere. On the other hand, he did manage to get a lovely brunette's number after Sam accidentally knocked her over and he oh-so-generously caught her in his arms. Never mind that he still looked a year or two above the age of puberty, he was still damned sexy. On the off chance the lady was a cougar well, at least she wasn't a pyromaniac sociopath with a tendency to burst into flames. Not to point fingers or anything. He'd done worse.

The crowd was much bigger than it had been five minutes ago because of the strange lightning and others were drawn by the wails of misery from the college kid running the show. Humming and innocently pushing people out of his way with enough force to push a tank on it's side, Gabriel made a very effective path through the hysterical crowd as well as the growing number of nuts falling to their knees and screaming, 'the apocalypse is nigh, my brothers!' They had missed that one by a few good months and God forbid it happen again. If it did, someone was going to die. Well, obviously because the first was started with a war. And not the kind with fuzzy pillows and hot cocoa afterwards, either. _Why do things never make sense in my head? _Gabriel whined silently.

They made it to the edge of the crowd without too much bloodshed. The full-on riot going on behind them was an entirely different story. Feeling insanely proud of his power-free chaos, Gabriel skipped happily all the way to the hotel room with a lacy polka dot bra hanging festively off of the knob. Sam promptly turned around to pay for a new hotel room while he stared indecisively at the wall. Should he risk seeing something he had no wish to ever witness or sleep in the hallway? The sounds coming from the room, after _three hours, _mind you, were still going strong and showed no signs of stopping. If he could rush blindly through the room then he had some hope but that's only if he didn't trip on the jumble of hideous furniture. That's also assuming Dean was on the bed.

Gabriel chose the hallway.

Up until around three in the morning when a couple decided they couldn't make it back to their room and did it in the doorway of the room next door. _Is everyone getting laid tonight but me? _This theory was proved right when the old couple down the hall got frisky and seared his retinas with things even worse than Purgatory. That was the last straw. Covering his eyes miserably, he stumbled around the hotel looking for Sam's room while tripping over multiple coitus-seeking couples. Let's just say it was worse than when Lust and Gluttony partnered up in the old days. Those poor, poor cherubs. Who knew trying to get one couple together would end up with an orgy the likes of which Rome never saw? Raphael's counseling service had skyrocketed.

Thankfully, Sam opened the door before the guy currently staring at him like he was the current Messiah could do anything Michael would smite him for. He wasn't _against _gay marriage or the stuff that comes before and after that, but it was preferable if he wasn't a part of it. Or if he was, then not being raped by the guy. Just thinking that brought horror first and foremost into Michael's little corner of his mind and Gabriel couldn't help but grin. Big brother should have seen the orgy in Norway. The feeling grew until he laughed out loud although he was still trying to get the man off of him so he could go through the door. Sam thankfully decided to punch the guy straight in the face and after about five minutes of dodging grabby hands, Gabriel made it through the door. Sam opened his mouth but was quickly cut off. "No, Lust is _not _free and if he was, he wouldn't be in the same hotel as an archangel who could kick his ass three ways to Christmas in less than a second. And no Dean isn't with me. I've gotta say, using libido to kill is a pretty strange way to hunt unless you're a succubus."

"So, it's a succubus?"

A sigh. "Did I _say _it was a succubus? No. Those bimbos can only seduce one or two men at a time and even then she can't kill them. Just put him in a coma with no immune defenses for a month or two. Hey, does this remind you of the syrens in Huntington Beach? Dean was doing the exact same thing he's doing now."

No comment. That was okay since neither of them wanted to remember the sounds coming from that hotel room or the night spent in the Impala. It was a wonderful car, just not such a good bed. Not to mention the nightmares of what had probably been done in the backseat. Sam put on a bitch face and started working on his laptop while Gabriel dared to take a peak outside the peephole. In this case, he really _was _taking a peep and it was hard not to feel awkward looking out at the massive 'social meeting' going on right outside his door that he wasn't a part of. Now there was a sense of awkwardness coming from Lucifer that was entirely too terrifying since he'd watched the demons from his cage for a very, very long time and they weren't exactly discreet. Of course, that went away when he met the bloodbath going on in the hallway. Jaw slightly open in horror he hadn't felt since the Fall, he watched the people outside drawing knives from nowhere and stabbing each other all while still kissing heavily. Blood stained the hideous carpets that even through the murder, Gabriel could take a moment to express disgust for. Still, not the point.

"Shit, shit, shit! Shit, fuck, shit, fu-wait. Never mind. _SONUVABITCH!_ Sammy, get a move on and grab some holy water while you're at it! Come _on!_"

Racing through the door and taking as many precautions as he could against the knives sucking light just from it's very presence, Gabriel sprinted up two flights of stairs quicker than he thought possible and kicked down the door. Dean, thankfully, was wearing boxers and trying to get Siamese twins off of his chest. Both were giggling like little girls while holding a freaking _samurai sword _above his throat. They weren't even distracted by Gabriel and Sam tearing them away until they were swiftly choked out and laid on the rumpled bed. The archangel looked out the third story window with trepidation and wished his brothers were here. Or more importantly, his wings.

There wasn't any more time to waste, which became apparent when several naked men and women rushed through the door. After a quick wince for the pain this was going to cause, Gabriel put a hand on both boy's backs and gave an almighty shove before diving after them. It must have looked like something out of an action movie except for the small fact that they were their own stunt doubles. And there was no cushy landing. Sam landed in a trash bin, Dean landed on a homeless man and Gabriel? Face plant on the pavement. There was an audible crunch in his left leg and a feeling of breathlessness accompanied by extreme pain, not to mention the blood gushing down his face. Groaning wearily, he bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw even _more _blood when the boys thoughtfully dragged him to the car. They were apparently unharmed other than a lot of scrapes and bruises.

Oh, happy day.

Gabriel was shoved in the back with Sam looking at him pityingly. Which Sam, he had no idea in the slightest since there were at least three of them. He believed this was what was called a concussion. Delightful thing, that. He was feeling all fuzzy until the idiot decided it was the perfect time to set his nose back into place. A wet crunch was all it took to bring him back to full awareness. He wasn't exactly happy with that either. There was an agonizing ache in his ribs and leg that throbbed in time to his heartbeat. A whimper escaped his throat. See, it wasn't so bad when he and the vessel were separate but since Lucifer effectively bound him to _become _a human he experienced pain like them, too. Which sucked like hell. Gabriel must have blacked out because when he opened his eyes next they were back at Singer's Salvage. Blearily glancing around, he met a pair of sky blue eyes staring worriedly at him from the opened door of the Impala. All he could manage was a slight twitch of his lips before the blackness came rushing back.

The last thing he remembered was musing, _And I used to be afraid of the dark…_

Waking up wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. There was only a mild sense of pain when he sat up and no voices screaming in his head. Wait. _There were _no voices _screaming in his head. _Michael's blunt thoughts and Lucifer's sarcastic remarks were no longer floating around in his mind and it was bloody terrifying. Even when he banished himself from Heaven it was never quiet. Against his better judgment, he curled up into a ball and hugged his chest in a full-out panic attack. Tears made shimmering tracks on his cheeks as flashbacks of his first few centuries completely alone seared his eyes and forced him to let loose a heart wrenching sob. Castiel slipped easily into the room and wordlessly started to stroke his head. The fledgling's lips moved but Gabriel didn't hear the words. He was lost.

He was always lost.

**The Commander is frozen…**

In Heaven, everything was quiet too. Not a cherub spoke or flew or laughed, not a holy ghost stirred while the angels stood completely still. Seconds later an almighty scream blew through the perfection of their home shortly followed by two others. Ariella didn't join her brothers agonizing grief. She flew high and fast, simply watching as her heart shattered into billions of pieces. This was her way. The angel of protection couldn't save her poor big baby of a brother from the emptiness they were all feeling. They couldn't even find him.

Michael was furious. Too many times had he let his family down in some of the worst ways possible. Even thinking of what he had done to Gabriel made his blood boil as he wished to Father there was a way to change places with him. Raphael fell into despair. He had nothing to feel guilty about but the feeling of helplessness and the fact that he couldn't even comfort the family he had with him was taking it's toll. That was usually Gabriel's job and he was terrible at it. However, that didn't even touch upon what Lucifer was feeling. No, not at all. For the one archangel who had felt the crushing insanity of isolation there were too many emotions to describe. Pain, disbelief, angst, despair, heartbreak and the sense of failure were only a few. After all, he had been the one to bind Gabriel's grace and wings. Who could have known this was what would become of it?

Heaven was in a panic. Not only was their messenger gone but there was also an incredible darkness covering the earth so completely, not even Michael could pierce it. It was moving quickly and had consumed most on the northern hemisphere in the few hours it had been visible. The most worrying part was it's voice. Whatever it was spoke in absolute gibberish that not even Gabriel could understand. But Metatron could. The angels of prophets looked so young yet there were shadows in his eyes as he watched the earth wearily. So much had changed and so much was the exact same as it had always been. There was evil on God's most spectacular creation and an even greater one was taking advantage of it. A very familiar evil. Raising his eyes, the previously mute Metatron opened his mouth and spoke. It pierced through the chaos in Heaven like a knife, calming everyone with it's undulating tones and causing even more panic when what he said finally set in.

"_**Children of Cain."**_

Lucifer closed his eyes in anguish but they flew open immediately when he came across a bright spark in the planes of his mind. Gasping quietly, he ignored Michael's questioning glance when he opened his wings and drifted over the clouds. Slowly, slowly, the spark grew brighter and he allowed Michael access to this miracle. The other archangels quickly followed and as one, dove through Heaven to pierce the blackness. Their combined grace forced it to recoil like a living thing as they forced themselves to touch down on the earth. Crunching over metal and glass, the archangels ignored the looks they were getting from street goers to follow the light.

**Justice is corrupt…**

There was no golden glow where he was. Even in Hell there was a glow. Here, there was nothing. Like Purgatory. Nothing. No light, but there was life. Monsters put away for safe keeping until a time came that they were ready to be faced. Now wasn't the time. Not in the slightest. Gabriel wasn't even sure if his eyes were open or not but he was pretty sure he was crying. Crying. It tasted like salt. There wasn't any rust so it couldn't be blood. Why was he crying? He couldn't remember. Was he in pain?…no. There was no pain here. There wasn't anything. If he was in Purgatory then shouldn't he be afraid? Weren't there things to be scared of in Purgatory? There. _There _was pain. Then there was detachment and he couldn't recall who he was anymore.

More pain. More detachment. It was different this time. A voice pierced through the nothing. Words. Things that make sense. A touch, one so familiar that he went through the motion of scooting closer for the warmth. Who was this that brought warmth to a place so numb with cold? Something brushing…what was that, his wings? Fingers. Fingers were brushing his wings. _Not _Michael. He wanted Michael. Or Lucifer. But Lucifer was gone, gone, gone. Fallen to earth and into a cage that he, himself, had made. He missed his brother sometimes. Before he fell everything was beautiful and kind and Michael still loved him. This was all dad's fault. But the humans were so different. Imperfect. Such flaws. Why did they have to bow down to things lower than themselves? Gabriel thought they were fun. Fun to play with and easy to trick, yet they made such beautiful things. How does something ugly make such beautiful things?

A finger was running down his cheek to wipe the tears away. This touch was different and not so familiar but he remembered, sort of. Human…Sam? _Who is Sam?_ He wanted Michael. A sound buzzed far, far away and it didn't sound like it was supposed to. Like comparing a chainsaw to wind chimes. Somehow it was still kind of beautiful. Deep and rough but promising enough. It wasn't his brother and didn't speak of safety or love, though. Where was Michael? He wondered where Castiel was. He wondered why it was so dark here. He wondered many things that had no answers. Something was speaking to him now. Gabriel searched for it but couldn't find who was talking. The sounds made words, things that made sense to him now.

**Man's time is ending.**

_Why? It's just started._

**Because you love them, angel.**

_I do?_

**Yes, angel. You do. You fought and died for them and condemned me to suffer for eternity. All for them. Don't act innocent. You know what you've done.**

…_done?_

**Archangel Gabriel, bringer of justice. You of every deity in Heaven should know how it felt. Left in someone else's shadow for something you never meant to happen. Jealous of the love your brothers have from your dear, departed father who art no longer in Heaven. Yet never powerful enough to just reach out and…shall we say, take it? Take the things your God cares about over his angels, his perfect creations and you will be all he has. Show him how you feel.**

_You want me to kill them._

**Yes.**

_No._

**Why?**

…_because I love them._

XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxXxX

Lucifer led them. It had been a dream of his before he left Heaven corrupted with wrath and jealousy to lead his brothers instead of the golden son, Michael. Now he wasn't so sure. It didn't feel right for him to do this, not while missing a part of him just as precious as his wings. Or ever, really. Michael understood and stepped a little faster to walk with him and Raphael, marching shoulder to shoulder. This was how it was supposed to be. All equals. None more beautiful, stronger or smarter than the other. It had taken him much too long to realize this.

The humans weren't all bad. Now that he looked he could see incredible amounts of pure emotions, like the elderly couple holding hands and gazing into one another's eyes still very much in love. Siblings in the park with the eldest holding his crying baby sister while patching her torn knee. A man taking a severe beating for his friend so he could get away, at every cost to his own health. Love, trust and loyalty. These creatures had free will and though some chose to use it for the good others corrupted themselves. Hate, anger, lust. Yet all these things were in Heaven as well. He would know since he had felt them himself. Lucifer couldn't help but be awed by these humans. They were not beautiful on the outside but to look at a child or see a mother cradling her babe, their souls shine through. He had only looked as far as he'd wanted and nothing more.

Lucifer had been wrong.

It wasn't Heaven or Hell. There was no purity or evil here. Like neutral ground. These were children of earth not unlike the Pagans although they had no power. It was refreshing. A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Michael's smile. Lips twitching slightly upward, he murmured, "You are not the only one who didn't see. I only bowed because it was Father's will, as did Raphael. Gabriel, I think, looked much more closely than we ever did and saw this. _This _is what we are fighting for."

Raphael snickered then. "And for our stubborn baby brother who has managed to lose himself in his own where only we can find him. Just like a fledgling in a cloud maze."

Of course, it was more serious than that but it was a good enough move to lighten their spirits. Their northern star was leading them through the city straight to the edge of civilization. Figures a hunter would live here. Surrounded by trees and old cars, there were enough hiding places in case something came calling to hide hundreds of the stubborn bastards. The house came into view and Castiel's grace became much clearer. Gabriel's was about as clear as mud. It felt like it, too. For some reason it was dirty and definitely not bright enough to belong to their baby angel. Michael stiffened and hissed, "Legion. We should have known he would come for Gabriel if he ever got free."

Legion. The complete and total opposite of the one in Heaven, especially since it was just one demon made up of many. Every murderer, rapist or wrongly accused human becomes a part of him and lends him even more power. Normal angels didn't stand the semblance of a chance against it and Gabriel certainly couldn't fight it on his own. _I wonder how Sam will take our reunion. _

**Mea Culpa is Latin for 'my fault'. Also, just thought I'd leave a cliffhanger here and see who reviews. I do love you guys but I love reviews, too. Hint hint. Double love for my reviewers and I post the prequel featuring baby Gabe. It's sad but awesome. REVIEW! **


	22. Mea Maxima Culpa

Hello, there! If your reading this now, I've already posted the prequel with the adorable baby angel or am about to. So check my profile and ignore the bad jokes ON said profile. Okay. Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty Two: Mea Máxima Culpa

**Why do you love them, angel? The Morningstar fell to earth because of them. You lost your favorite brother. You should hate them. After all, our wayward deity cares for them more. He abandoned you in your hour of need and you will do nothing?**

_It isn't my choice. Father left because he thought we would need to be protected from the truth._

**Oh? And what **_**is **_**that truth, angel?**

_We were wrong._

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

Sam was terrified. That was layman's terms for the things he was currently experiencing, all of which going much beyond that but as there wasn't a word to describe said amount of terror, he wasn't about to bother. Of course, it could have something to do with the fact that he was currently staring at three of the most powerful angels in all of existence and all had an unreadable look on his face. None of them had vessels and it hurt just to look at Michael but what caught his eye was the one in the middle. Now, since Gabriel had told them in a fit of grief infused temper that all of the archangels were dead except for the five of them he was hoping the third one was Ariella.

Yeah. It _really_ wasn't.

There was nothing like being turned into a meat suit and tortured for eighty years in the Cage to get to know someone. Even without his memories, Sam most definitely remembered Lucifer. Darker than Michael but shining just as bright as he drove a sword through his gut. He could feel his heart racing as he fell weakly against the wall, unable to hold himself up in the wake of his worst nightmare. Lucifer had come for him. He was going to kill him. Right now, they were just…_staring _at him with identical looks of pity and he hated_, hated, HATED _it! What right did they have when they had done this to him to start with? Castiel was the only angel who wasn't a complete and total dick, with the sometimes exception of Gabriel on a good day. What had they done for them? Michael and Raphael had given his brother hell and Lucifer-no. He couldn't go there.

When the staring got too much for him, Sam scrambled back up and snatched the keys to the Impala on the way out the door. Hunt or not, he wasn't ready to face his demons.

Sam wasn't aware of the guilt burning right alongside pity in the archangels' ageless eyes that suddenly seemed far too ancient for their seemingly young faces. They had all done things they weren't proud of during the Apocalypse and it became all to apparent what Lucifer had done to one soul in particular. The Morningstar silently stalked forward, though his chin didn't raise as high in the air as it used to and the haughty features seemed just a bit more loose as his lips quivered horrendously. He hadn't known how much it would hurt him to see the catalyst of all that he'd done. His brothers hid from him the damage wreaked upon their souls but this human boy he'd ordered changed, mutilated and broken did no such thing. Here, they were afraid of him and always would be. For as long as it was written in the bible so it must be.

Lucifer was about to turn around when he felt eyes burning into the back of his skull. Not Castiel. The fledgling never had respected personal boundaries. He came by it honestly enough, though, if Gabriel was anything to go by. The beloved fool of Heaven who hid his secrets from the world with a laugh, a smile and a song. The fool they would need to have this whole save-the-world thing actually work. He ignored the burning, loathing looks and even the weapon as soon as it was fired at him with his usual indifference as he literally walked through the Winchester to get to his fledgling. Nobody was sitting with him or holding his hand, though it looked as if he were completely oblivious to the rest of the world. Lucifer knew better. He wasn't even in this world, or the next.

He wasn't anywhere.

Falling much more gracefully than Sam, he landed on his knees then pulled his brother into his arms so he could cradle the messenger. Golden wings flopped uselessly to the floor along with a boneless body but Lucifer cushioned the short fall. There wasn't any light in Gabriel. Only a neutral blackness, a clean slate. Castiel looked at him tiredly from where he stood in the doorway and whispered, "He has been like this for hors and the humans in the hotel are all dead. Why?"

Michael stepped past him and muttered lowly, "It isn't our story to tell."

He was right. This was a tale that could only be told by three people and they were none of them. Lucifer hadn't even been there when it happened and he, personally, had heard the story from Metatron shortly before leaving. It had been a period of isolation for the archangels that lasted…indefinitely, really. Even now there were things between them that still needed to be said but were left for a later date. He supposed he was to blame for that as well. Lucifer stroked one cold cheek and sighed at the complexity of the story. It was revenge woven into hatred and burnished with jealousy. It all revolved around Castiel.

That really shouldn't have surprised him.

Michael and Raphael were now sitting in a triangle with him still holding their only hope. Well, not their only hope but to go without him was pretty much suicide considering how much they knew about their enemy. Which, as the humans would say, was jackshit. Legion had been Gabriel and Metatron's assignment and at that time, well, he'd been a little indisposed. Smiling wistfully, he stroked the golden hair again before setting his fledgling down in the centre of the formation before the archangels closed their eyes to prepare to pierce the darkness.

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

**Why, messenger! Why were you wrong?**

_Humans have never needed our protection even if they have never looked beyond what their eyes see. They have never NEEDED us the way we do our Father. He had created something perfect and independent from Him and he would not interfere. We saw fragile things, wanting and needing safety when really it was us who needed the feeling of power._

**What are you saying, angel?**

_Angels are not perfect. We are corrupt, sometimes. _

**Ah, Lucifer Morningstar. It has been long since I looked upon his face. Do you know, I believe he has forgotten what Heaven looks like. Show me and I will give him your gift of love and remembrance. Maybe your dear brother will return to Heaven with the flickering light of hope this gift will bring. Show me…show me the golden gates.**

_I cannot._

**Yes, dear one. You can. Lovely Gabriel of the Golden Wings, messenger of Heaven and earth, you of all can fulfill your brother's wish to reconcile with memories of old. Just a tiny little peek and I promise you will see Lucifer soon.**

_I-I cannot!_

**You can. And you will.**

There is silence. Until-

**XxXxXxXxXxXxXx**

The archangel's efforts were broken off when their brother's eyes snapped open with a gurgling cry. Blood gushed freely from his mouth and nose as an unseen pressure cracked and broke the previously healed ribs while they were still recovering from their attempt. Lucifer dove forward in a rare display of abruptness from the normally calm angel as to trap their flailing fledgling in place. Back arching, Gabriel managed a thin whine as his eyes snapped open, showing off a roiling display of red-gold swirling in place of his normal amber. Raphael made a moaning sound in deep in his chest that almost sounded like a growl before his face hardened. Grace pounded against the wisps of shadows blocking their way to their fledgling but the going was slow.

So slow, in fact, that Dean took the opportunity to grab a sandwich.

Bobby wasn't very impressed. One, it was _his _food that was rapidly being consumed by the bottomless pit, and two, there was a spastic angel on his floor with the power to make a continent or two pull an Atlantis. After taking off his hat so he could run a nervous hand through his thinning hair, he absently wondered what it would have been like if they had actually managed to kill the Trickster. It would be a hell of a lot less terrifying waking up in the morning, that's for sure. Bobby was pretty sure he wasn't going to get over waking up in the middle of the night with an idjit archangel sitting on his bed sucking noisily on a Jolly Rancher. He hadn't screamed, oh, no. He _had _nearly shot himself in a very important place, though. The memories of that one prank made him grimace and he took the small opportunity another pained scream gave to steal the half-a-sandwich that remained.

It wasn't that he hated the archangel. On the contrary, he was only mildly annoyed with him. It would be a lot quieter without Gabriel bursting into an off key 'High School Musical' number or for some reason, grab his hands, start swaying and sing 'Kumbaya'. He had reason to believe any quiet now would drive him moderately insane. For some reason, a chorus of voices in his head murmured their empathy and one blink later, he was walking out the door muttering about finding Sam. It's time to leave when the angels working with the pain in everyone's ass started to sympathize with his stunning lack of normality. For some reason the angels, who have apparently decided to stick with him, questioned him about this 'normality' and chastised him for leaving Gabriel because 'they wanted to see'. Therefore, he got no further than his truck before turning around and marching back through his front door.

Damn angels.

Dean had taken over his sandwich and had made another one in the meantime. Which was terrible, because not only was the house silent now that Gabriel had calmed down a little, but there was no food. Fuming, he basically told the angels to fuck off and went to a local diner without a backwards glance.

Thankfully, as soon as Bobby was gone the archangels had their first real breakthrough. Wisps of conversation reached their ears and they froze up when they heard Gabriel refusing almost tearfully to show Legion the golden gates of Heaven. They didn't catch all of it but the screams it was punctuated by were clear as crystal. Michael didn't even wait for the others before charging on ahead through what little shadows were left, filling the shadows with cleansing fire. Legion hissed and screamed but eventually, let go. Their baby brother was bawling in the middle of a pitch-black abyss, looking much younger than he should. Lucifer promptly scooped him up and glared when Michael tried taking him away. That said, if Michael was the overprotective dad then Lucifer became the hysterical mother when one of the chicks was hurt. But never, _ever _say it to their faces.

Gabriel didn't really need to breath, now that Grace was being siphoned slowly back into his body but he was still hyperventilating and wailing, "I'm sorry! I-I didn't mean it! _P-please!_"

Lucifer was pissed. Hissing in a very feline manner, he snapped, "What did you _do _to him when I was gone? Throw him in the pit for a century?!"

Yeah…no. It was probably worse than that. Ignoring the attention-seeking baby of the family would probably only form mass amounts of abandonment issues in addition to mental scarring from having to basically commit fratricide. Between that and all the things he'd seen and done on earth and was apparently now reliving, his memories were probably worse than Lucifer's. Michael winced at the thought of what his brother would do when he discovered all the things he had accidentally subjected Gabriel to in his fight to kill the devil. Lucifer and that cloven beast were not the same, although once they could have been. The pagan's feast and all. He thought it best just to keep a blank face on and stay silent.

At least until Gabriel looked at Lucifer and started to wail. The words were completely incomprehensible except for one or two words, such as 'chicken' and possibly 'Obama'. However, as none of those words would make sense in this particular context since he was unlikely to cry and scream, 'OBAMA LIKES CHICKEN!', Michael put it down to faulty mental functions and went on with trying to bring his brother back to reality. By this time, all three archangels were basically pressing their wings in angelic hugs while thankfully, for Dean, smothering the earth-shattering screams. Raphael sighed a little before shoving a baby bottle of hot chocolate right into his brother's open mouth.

He shut up. Surprise, surprise.

Incredulous, Dean sputtered, "That's all you need to make him shut up? Cocoa?"

"Any form of chocolate, really. He's formed an unhealthy relationship with it that's basically gone on from _before _humans discovered the cocoa bean. It's like he was trying to make us miserable." Lucifer nodded coolly along with Raphael's words before adding some of his own. "I remember when he consumed an entire forest of those beans in the form of Hershey's bars."

It really wasn't that hard to believe.

By now, Gabriel had finished his drink and had now realized what it had been given to him in. Pouting in a way that definitely had repercussions for later when he didn't look like a zombie, he chucked the bottle straight at Raphael's head and managed to somehow fit the returning Sam into the path of the incoming baby bottle. It made a very satisfying bonk sound before the momentum forced his head into a wall and knocked him out. Dean muttered amusedly, "Well, this is a new one. An IFB. Gotta say, it's a hell of a lot better than the UFO." He looked at his brother and chuckled. "Oh, God. I _really _have to take a picture of this."

Imagine if you will. One archangel with a strange bluish mark on his forehead, an unconscious oversized hunter with his head not on, but _through _the wall and a babyishly pouting Trickster angel protesting his maturity. Meanwhile, the elder brothers are leaning to get a closer look at Sam while simultaneously pumping more Grace to said pouting baby. Dean snickered, then shook his head and dragged Sam out of the wall. It was one of the hidey-holes for Bobby's rifles so the worst he'd have was maybe a tiny concussion. Which didn't really matter because for the first time in history, the Winchester brothers could have someone do their hunt for them. No bandages, no antiseptic, no plaster casts and best of all, no need to waste good ammo on something that won't die. They still had to wait to hear this story, though.

Sam stayed far away from Lucifer as the archangels led the way to the sitting room. Promptly sitting down and rubbing his aching head, he glared slightly at the messenger then gave up when he only received a cheery wave. The mood didn't extend to his eyes. They were still haunted and hollow, probably remaining that way for a long time afterwards. Sam could empathize. Like there was something inside you, burning to get out yet when it did you knew everything was going to fall apart. Not just you but the people close to you. So you hide the pain and will it to go away, feign memory loss and pretend nothing ever happened. He would like to think he was succeeding when in reality, the attempt was so far from scratching the surface that it was laughable. Lucifer's presence brought back so many memories of when they were not two, but one, himself locked away in darkness and mocked for his weakness. Yet somehow in some places there was a flicker of light. Like a dying ember giving off a single glinting spark.

If that spark was gold, nobody would tell.

Sam had really never held much against Gabriel other than killing Dean repeatedly in the mystery spot. Which was pretty big but after the Cage he could maybe forgive that. Maybe. Misery likes company after all and right now, they were both pretty miserable. After they had taken a seat, Gabriel even let his smile fall. The mask was cracked, a little broken, but not enough that he would never be able to pick up the pieces. Sam could _definitely _relate to that. The story that came next was something even the most jaded of Hunters could bow their heads at. A tale of death, jealousy, hatred, fear and even love thrown in for good measure. A tale nobody would dare walk away from.

Gabriel started out by batting absently at a piece of dust, Mad Hatter grin still missing from his face. It started out as a whisper then grew stronger the further into it they got. "So, around the time Cain and Abel were born there was this big war between Heaven and Hell. Not that this was unusual but they were searching for something this time. The Golden Gates, the only thing standing between enemies and the pure souls of humans enjoying their eternal rest. There were angels captured by the demons in the fight to protect the souls but they would give up nothing under torture, even when their wings were torn off at the joint and they were flung into the Pit. This was one of those times Michael was an ass because he made me and my garrison fight most of the incoming army with a little backup from Raphael's soldiers. Meanwhile, _his _soldiers were searching for God and completely forgetting that we were all dying." Nobody envied the furious glare Raphael and Lucifer shot Michael, who slumped slightly from his anal retentive position.

"All the demons who tried for the Gate or even found it were quickly taken care of for good, since there wasn't any way we could risk word getting out in the Underground. It wasn't easy, seeing as I had a garrison of around fifty and Raphael had maybe a few more than that. Ariella was busy fighting them off from Eden and frankly, she's her own garrison so nobody bothered sticking her to a hundred warriors. Besides, there weren't as many going for the Garden than there were for the Gates. Around this time, one of our sisters, Sathael, found something interesting during one of her scouting missions. To hear her say it, he had been the best and worst thing that ever happened to her. The guy was standing around just outside the barrier but he didn't feel demonic. In fact, we didn't know what he was."

"There was something off about him but Satha wouldn't listen to our pleading to be careful. She told us she would be and that she would keep him away from Heaven's interior. Things happened fast. She had fallen in love with the thing after just three earth days. He seemed to return the feelings until one day she broke her promise to us and opened the Gates for him. Everything changed after that. As soon as they broke apart a horde of Demons poured inside, basically tearing us all to ribbons. There were thousands of them and when Michael finally got off his high-horse to help, it was nearly too late. There were only about ten of my garrison still alive and some of them would have preferred not to be. There's one angel, Aziraphael, who had a twin. He watched as the demons dragged him by his wings into the Pit, heard his screams and felt his pain as they ruined him."

"Sathael didn't get her happy ending either. The guy was no angel, no demon but this creepy mixture of the two. Turns out demons and angels can knock each other up as well as out. He raped her right in front of us and later gave Sathael birth to something better left unmentioned. She killed herself a century later. For what he did to her, there was no way we could kill him. Metatron and I were God's left hand so we dealt out the punishment. That, and I was the angel of justice while _he _was the only one that new a really good binding spell. So we named him Legion and we cursed him to bear the souls of the unjust. Every murderer, rapist and even a few politicians never made it to Heaven or Hell. By the time we had sentenced him, Cain was dying after having never learned the lesson we set for him. Instead of a life of misery, he became a mercenary for some weird Egyptian thing vaguely resembling an army and killed people when they gave him an itty bitty paper cut. Well, papyrus cut."

"And thus, Legion was created, nicknamed Cain and trapped in a void between time and space. He hates me and Metatron enough to break free of his prison, obviously. Then again, maybe giving him all that soul power was a _really _bad idea after all. Hey, that actually felt pretty good to get off of my chest. Wait-why is everyone staring at me? I don't like i-_hmph!_

Group hug. _Great. _Raphael wasn't exactly happy either, since he, too, was on the receiving end of three of Lucifer's wings gladly crushing the shit out of them. Michael was looking a little like a lost puppy which was odd, since he often had the 'are you kidding me' head tilt or the 'don't speak to me, infidel' look_. _He didn't join in on the love fest for his own probably guilty emotions and it was pretty clear Lucifer was debating socking him in the jaw. The temptation was obvious. The choices were, too. Permanent bodily harm after a Boa Constrictor bear hug or wallow in this shit for another century or so. Rolling his eyes, Gabriel nonchalantly punched his brother in the arm before pulling him into the mess of limbs and wings. _Dear God, it's getting warm in here._

Muffled through Lucifer's wings but not entirely silenced, Sam asked, "What about the baby?"

…_here we go again._ Fighting free of the massive feathered appendages, he ended up having to pluck a few flight feathers before being able to squirm away in one piece. Raphael? Not so lucky. Affectionate/protective Lucifer was absolutely terrifying and not even Michael tried to contest his strength against the stubborn, loving asshat. Which doesn't exactly come back to the spawn of Legion but we're getting to that. "Alright, so Legion raped Sathael and got her pregnant. Nine long years later, both Rafe and I were scarred for eternal life at the kid's birth since technically he's the only doctor in Heaven. A do-it- yourself process in it's finest. Seriously, man! It was our _little sister. _It was absolutely horrifying to watch. Anywho, three-quarters of angel blood and only one of demon meant we had to give him a choice. Heaven or Hell. Guess which one he chose. You'd actually know him quite well."

Sam pondered this for a moment then stopped as yellow eyes flashed in his mind. "The Yellow-Eyed-"

"Azazel. His name was Azazel. Azrael was his twin sister but she remained in Heaven to replace Samael as the angel of death. She's scary good at what she does so when it's your time, don't try to skip out on her. She keeps an especially close eye on Hunters."

Dean gawked. "Wait, wait, wait. So the archangel who sees the fucking _future _didn't look ahead and see how screwed that bastard would make our lives? Dude, that's messed up. Or didn't you give a shit?"

"He was family."

That was all he had to say. Family was everything, what made you strong enough to live at all. To lose a part of it is like ripping stitches out of your own heart, or maybe barbed wire, just so you can finally feel numb again. Just because family can make some stupid decisions didn't mean they weren't still as important as a limb. Azazel had expected to die for his choice but Gabriel had closed his eyes and turned the other way. Yeah, he'd known what his little nephew was destined for before the little rugrats were an inkling in their great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-God-knows-how-many-times-great grandparent's eyes. He'd been angry about it but in the end nothing else mattered but the tiny baby with sharp yellow eyes he'd held at birth. God, he was such a softy.

Dean seemed to understand as he glanced quickly at Sam and remembered all the things his little boy had done to break his heart. Not to mention his bones. All the times he took a blow for Sam, every drop of blood shed in return for something he'd done practically on instinct and would continue to do until death do they part. All of his most grievous faults. All of his compassion. Every. Last. Moment.

Breaking the silence, Gabriel muttered, "Well, let's get this over with. I'll need Metatron, soil from the tomb of Abel, my own blood, a star and a sandwich. Samantha, go make me a sandwich!"

Okay. So it wasn't the best ice breaker in the world but it got everyone moving, even as Dean questioned just how they were going to get a star out of the sky. Gabriel rolled his eyes. As if he would ask a human to _fly through the atmosphere _and grab a star that would no doubt kill them if somehow they got past the whole 'vacuum of space' thing. Yeah, no. That was all Lucifer. Morningstar, get it? Michael let to collect Metatron and because frankly, his grace was showing. All the strain had his concentration shot to hell and he could no longer stand on earth without a) incinerating it, b) blinding everyone for a good ten million mile radius in a blast that would be seen from twenty miles underground, or c) simply blowing the hole planet to kingdom come. Abel's grave dirt was actually really easy to find, as well.

Just look under the pyramid of Giza.

As all this came together, he and Metatron had to make a plan on actually bringing Legion to them. The monster wasn't stupid for the obvious reasons and probably had a greater mind than the oversized hunter but there was one thing that could take him down. Hatred. Legion hated Gabriel with a passion because _he _was the one to pass judgment on his entire being and had thrown him into an abyss. Everything he was, everything he was made up of, was hatred, loathing and fear. This would be their trap.

Handing up Gabriel on a silver platter.

As plans went, it was somewhere between 'we're-all-going-to-die' and 'I'm-going-to-fucking-kill-you-if-you-pull-this-shit'. The latter was more his brothers than Sam and Dean. They were most definitely the former. Gabriel wasn't exactly thrilled about it either but it was either that or watch the world's biggest orgy gone psychotic for the rest of his days. Which, let me tell you, were _a lot._ Therefore it was either him or the world and obviously, they had to choose the world or God was coming back to Heaven to berate them all for being the epitome of dumbass. Nothing like the Father, his Son and the Holy Spirit to literally put the fear of God into you. It wasn't that bad though. You usually got a hug and a cookie after. Not that he was in any way bribed with sugary goodness to put his existence on the line, oh no. Of course, there was the minor fact that if the world went ka-boom there would be no more life-giving cholesterol to choose from. Gabriel plus baking equals a bad idea.

He and Metatron secluded themselves in the little bunker/army depot in Bobby's basement. They figured it was the most secure place to do it and if Gabriel went, he was damn sure going to take his brothers with him. They could torture each other into insanity during their time in Limbo. Not even wincing as he drew the blade handed to him by the big mouth of God, Gabriel began chanting lowly under his breath. As the black mist started to form Metatron began a spell of his own. It was ancient, dark and for some reason filled the air with the scent of evergreens. A holy air freshener. Nice. The mist formed into the Legion he knew and slightly feared with those yellowish-white eyes and, well, over a million teeny tiny pupils. Before he could speak, Gabriel cut him off. "Alright, so your pissed at me for the whole judgment thing. I'm pissed too. At having to do all this again but still, basically for the same reason. Bottom line is you shouldn't have killed Abel or any of the others knocking around in that swollen noggin' of yours. I also probably shouldn't have put voices into some insane guys' head yet I did so let's move on. …Goodbye, Legion."

Alright, so maybe not as much danger as he'd thought. Metatron had worked fast. Dusting off his knees, he waltzed back to the fortified door and asked, "Bridge game next week?"

The grin he got back broke at least eight laws of the Vatican.

There wasn't exactly a great hurrah going up when he went up the stairs so he went into the kitchen slowly and found something amazing. So positively unlikely to happen it was just astonishing to watch. So spectacularly mind-blowing that Albert E. himself wouldn't have been able to see this coming. An event of such magnitude there should have been fireworks and a chorus in the background singing their praises while a dozen cherubs, with clothes on, danced and flitted in the early morning up in the sky. Either that, or Hell was going to bust open and let spill a thousand demons back into this world that had never before seen the night of day. That's right!

Sam was talking. With _Lucifer._

Gabriel didn't even know what they were talking about but from the way Michael and Dean were pouting it was pretty obvious. The little brothers were comparing notes. Deciding to stay out of this one was probably the best idea of his life because seconds after Raphael decided to jump in, he was swimming the Panama in the nude. Actually, he hadn't even noticed Michael coming back from Heaven. Maybe he was getting better at those soft landings. The guy had the biggest flare for dramatics Gabriel had ever seen on someone other than himself and always managed to blow up a good house or two while simultaneously making the wheat grow to ten feet high. Too bad the farmers hadn't lived to see it. All in all, the whole thing was quite impressive and Gabriel also learned something that day. Never let Michael talk to Dean.

It turns out he gave a mean swirly.

**Alright! Prequel is up around now so check it out! Comment so I know if you like it. Ideas for the next chapter of Golden would be highly appreciated. I just started it and have lost track of what the hell do with it. Oh, and the title of the chapter means, 'my most grievous fault'.**


	23. To Forget or Remember

**Remembrance Day chapter! Also an opener for the chapter that I've started on and was too lazy to finish. That was two weeks ago…yeah. Anyways, here. Slightly depressing fluffy goodness.**

Chapter Twenty Three: To Forget or Remember?

It started with a woman.

That's pretty much how every story starts. Bro's before Ho's and all that crap. This went further by a kilometer and a half over the moon, straight through Jupiter and headed for Pluto. But still. It started with a girl. A fiery one with black hair, blue eyes and the sweetest smile Gabriel had ever seen in all of his millennia of living. God, and when that girl finally turned into an adult wars would be fought just to kiss her on the cheek, if she let them. The perfect girl. The one everyone would want to be around, even the Goths and emo kids. At least, they would if she hadn't been the very first female in the entire history of the world. Not Eve. Shy, timid, shaky little Eve who wouldn't fight against Adam for anything in the world. Lilith. The same one who was dragged to Hell for giving into carnal sins that are pretty much the only thing that keep the world turning on it's axis. There was only one problem.

She was also Michael's first love.

Gabriel shuddered slightly, remembering the thunder and lightning covering the screams of anguish and fury as his brother took his wrath out on everything around him. Whether it was alive or not. Because he couldn't get at Lucifer, the lying snake that had stolen his fiery girl with black hair and blue eyes that had suddenly become cold and distant. The fiery girl who would become the most feared demon in the pit until the day she died, completely and truly. _That _Lilith. Michael wanted her so Lucifer took her. Raphael tried to talk her out of it while Gabriel only wanted what was best for his brothers, going so far as to drag her down himself before being stopped and nearly killed by his older brothers. The only thing that they could agree on three thousand years before the Fall was how much the wanted to rip his wings off and throw him to the earth.

Lilith was the breaking point of total massacre in Heaven. After Father had sentenced her to the pit, Lucifer rebelled for all that he had. Not because he loved her but because he finally had an excuse. And when he met her during his stint as the Devil he had realized something. She was nothing more than a whore. Three thousand years she had been down there and in that time, she'd spawned the seven deadly sins. Like he'd said, all because of a girl. A four million year war over a whore that was everybody's, nobody's and everyone in between's. Maybe if God hadn't given her free will, things would have been different. Brothers and sisters wouldn't have fallen to the earth in shame. Died with withered and broken wings. So many of Heaven's pawns had died and nobody but the Legion cared. They got over it quickly but the way things were shaping up after Legion, it seemed as though they were going to give it another go. For all that didn't happen and for what did, they were ready to restart a feud that nearly wiped the entire plane of existence off the map.

Maybe that was why he was here, staring at the blood red poppies that had come to mean so much from so little. Cupping one in his hand, he listened to the whispered prayer of family members still in tears and mourning. A soft gust of wind brought a few of them fluttering in his face. It felt nice. Just listening to prayers of forgiveness, love, hope, peace and wishes of light and happiness instead of pure pain and sorrow. There was still sadness but it was somehow…muted. Breathing in the poppy's scent, he sat cross-legged in the middle of Flanders Fields. The crosses surrounding him glowed white in the coming dawn and he felt a sense of peace. Maybe the poem was right. His voice carried smoothly as he recited it.

"In Flanders Fields the poppies blow,

Between the crosses, row on row,

That mark our place; and in the sky,

The larks, still bravely singing, fly,

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago,

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

In Flanders Fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

The torch; be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die,

We shall not sleep though poppies grow

In Flanders Fields."

Something told him that the chuckleheads would enjoy this. After all, they had been daddy's little soldiers. Sam had lost track of what he was fighting for and maybe, he hadn't known from the very beginning. Dean knew but the motivation quickly changed. He just wanted his family together. Like a little child lost at sea with only a lifeboat big enough for two. Dean had given up his for Sam and John like his father would have done for Mary but in the end, perhaps it wasn't worth it. Maybe there was regret and maybe, there wasn't. _Hunters belong in Flanders Fields, too. _It could be a little piece of Eden, where there weren't any monsters to fight or brothers to kill. Where fathers don't ask the impossible and act surprised when the impossible happens. But this is reality, not a fictional Heaven where everything is perfect, white washed and fluffy.

Plucking the bright head off of one of the flowers, Gabriel brushed it against his cheek again and gave a small smile. Looking out over the field of poppies during the sunrise was a gorgeous sight. However, it was somewhat marred by the souls still holding tremulously to their worldly life, unwilling to leave their loved ones alone in their grief. As long as there was one known son, daughter or mother still alive there would be a soldier walking beside them. Sometimes they marched in pairs or squadrons, other times alone but this day they all came-well. Not exactly to life but there was something there. And then Gabriel felt it too. The slight tremble in the air announcing the words before they came to him.

A little girl. She sounded young and so, _so_ scared. _Dear God, please help my daddy. I know I haven't been a very good girl for mommy but I'll try harder. I'll clean my room, do my chores and even play with Amanda. Please, save my daddy! I don't want to be alone…_

The dead soldier's heads moved from one soul to another as they bowed their heads in his direction. A young man who probably fought in WWI even had phantom tears cresting in his eyes. They didn't speak. They never did, since there was nothing left to say in this life until they moved on to the next. What the soldiers wanted was clear enough. So he went.

**69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 **

He didn't quite regret it. Cornflower eyes gazed at the crying woman an the little girl clenching his fingers, eyes clenched in prayer and lips moving silently. Licking his lips, he mused, _So this is Death._ He flipped his hand over and watched as it made a pass through the sheets of his former bed. The bloodstains made it a little more…artistic, than they were before. Not all of them were from his impromptu writ-slitting, either. The stitches in his leg had been ripped after another nightmare. Closing his eyes against the memory, he wondered if he would go to Hell for what he had done. The Devil would surely welcome him…

"No to the first and yes to the last. The Devil welcomes any poor soul who steps up to condemn himself before actually being condemned."

The voice was unexpected, to say the least. Turning around quickly, he was faced with grim faced men and a golden haired teenager dressed up in old army fatigues. As he met the men's eyes, they gave him slow nods. A few of the younger ones gave a sharp salute. He was a Major, after all. There were memories in their eyes, too, but the kid's were the worst. What seemed like thousands of years of torment were captured in amber orbs. Major Neal Hardy wasn't one to feel pity since the day he lost his leg to shrapnel in the east, going down the exact same way as his friends in the Peacekeepers did. Smiling wistfully, he thought, _I kinda miss those idiots. _

He'd lain in that hospital bed for two months now because whenever the skin started growing back, he ripped it again in his night terrors. He felt weak and as his drill sergeant had said, only the strong survive.Neal knew he wasn't strong enough not to cry in front of his little Alice and if he started, Melissa was going to cry herself sick. God, she had a strong will but seeing him like this had just broken her. This in mind, he decided to stop ruining her life for good. She could be happy again. Marry a stronger man. Facing the ghosts again, he grunted, "Leave me be. I've done all I needed to so let me die."

The soldiers inclined their heads but not in agreement. It looked as though they were studying him. The boy shook his head bemusedly and his gaze didn't let up a single iota. "No can do, bucko. See, there's a man that I knew. He has the saddest look on his face and he thinks he's doing the right thing for his family. He believes that they're better off without him in their lives. Me? I just want to save him from the choice I nearly made. I want him to see what can change if he could only look past what he thought he's done to what he really did. Got any advice?"

Staring at him blankly, Neal muttered, "Go do something else with your afterlife, kid, and leave me to mine. Can't you see I want to be alone? Don't you know what I've done?" Face crumpling slightly, he choked, "There was this kid. I swear, she was the same age as my Alice. Big dark eyes and long chestnut hair. She, oh God, she got in the way. He was her father and sh-she just took the bullet. Fell to the ground and he didn't even look back. Her mother was screaming and I just kept thinking Alice. It could have been Alice. I killed a kid. I'm a monster. It's not something that I can ever forget."

"So don't."

"…that's shit advice, kid."

Sighing patiently, the teen shifted and started to stand. Walking up to him slowly, he held up his palms and looked at him. Neal could swear that he could see the tainted soul beneath it. "Monsters don't feel. They don't regret what they've done. They don't swear, drink or just stare at a wall for hours and hours wondering what could have happened differently. Monsters don't grieve for people they don't know. Monsters don't die for a cause that they believe in and make a difference for the better, even if it is for just one person. _Heroes, _on the other hand. Heroes win and mourn for the losses of both sides, crying at night because of the pictures and scrubbing at blood that just won't go away. Heroes do what they can to get away from the pain because it _is _what made them heroes. They put themselves through torture so others don't have to. Still think you're a monster?"

"Yes."

"Then you're still human. As much as a human can be, anyways. Let me tell you a story." Tugging impatiently on his hand, the blonde brought him into the hospital's rooftop garden. "Look at the water. Look at it and listen."

"The war that I was in was the worst. Everybody says that but they didn't have to do what I did. In cold blood, I murdered my brothers and sisters because they had different beliefs than my own. All because there were two sides and neither could understand the other and if they did, maybe they just hated each other. My brother and I were forced to take a side. We were told that this was good and that was evil. This was pure and that was tainted. Kill them and heal us. So I did. All around me there was fighting, blood and flashing metal but there were no tears. Not a single person cried for the family that they were slaughtering. Some called me weak because my eyes would always be red by the end of a battle, nose stuffed up so much it sounded like my voice was coming from a hole in the ground.

I wouldn't talk to anyone. For all those years that I fought, nobody heard me speak until the final blow was struck and one of my brothers was pretty much gone for good. Maybe I was the only one who realized that there was no right and wrong, good and evil, black and white. There was always shades of grey and no room on either side for dark or light. In the end, I made the wrong decision and left my world. It was possibly the only choice I _could _make, but the things I left behind? The people I would never see again? I was selfish to take my light away from them, no matter how dim it was. Then again, that's just me. Look at how your family copes."

It was all in the fountain. Melissa rocked herself on the bed and there was something more. A slight bump to her stomach that he hadn't seen before. She was pregnant. It was his. Most definitely his. Then there were pills. Countless, endless amounts of pills for sleep deprivation, depression, nutrition, vitamins and even some pain medication that was never opened. They were his. As Neal watched, his beautiful, faithful wife scooped the pain meds into one hand and just _stared. _It was two o'clock in the morning and here she was, contemplating suicide. A knock on the door was enough to snap her out of it. Alice came in and handed her a plate of toast. The hoarse words echoed in his head. "No, baby. Mommy isn't hungry right now, okay?" From the looks of it, she hadn't been hungry in a while.

Alice's eyes were older as she walked away from her mother's room. Almost empty. Even as he watched, her face aged until she was a woman. A beautiful, cherished young woman tying fabric around her bicep so she could shoot some more heroin. Neal nearly choked on his tears. Her eyes were empty now, too. He watched as her boyfriend raped her, slapped her, kicked her and there was no daddy to cry to and make him bleed. He watched as she got pregnant at sixteen and had a stillborn child, taking the pain silently through her overly painted face. Melissa stood beside her just as quiet and as thin as a twig. Her figure was gone and there was brandy on her breath, alcoholism stemming from a lost child and a dead husband. They both died in a car accident on the way home from the hospital, much too drunk to drive but not caring for their lives anyways.

Wrenching away with a cry, Neal turned and punched the kid square in the jaw. There was no crack to signify it's breaking and nothing but a grimace to even show it's passing. In fact, the teenager looked almost impressed. "I haven't seen speed like that since Balthazar got caught with a triathelete's girlfriend! Almost reminds me of the time Michael got pissed…"

Michael. Balthazar. Why were those names familiar to him? They sure as hell weren't part of his squadron. Neal definitely would have remembered. Swallowing, he asked, "Is that really going to happen?"

The teenager looked thoughtful. "Hm. Nah. I've decided that I like you, and your little Alice. Besides, Remembrance Day isn't a good time to die and it's about as depressing as being broken up with on Valentine's Day. So, Major Neal Hardy, are you going to change you're mind?"

He couldn't breath. Another chance? Only an angel could give another chance. Then he _really _couldn't breath. Killing brothers. Choosing sides. Another world. Michael and Balthazar. Opening his mouth, he croaked, "Who _are _you."

The angel winked slyly as he spread three pairs of glinting golden wings two or three times bigger than his body. Eyes glowing gold, he purred, "You can call me Gabriel."

_Beepbeepbeep._

"Clear!"

Neal's eyes fluttered open slowly. There she was. Alice's eyes clenched in prayer behind the glass and Melissa's horror-struck face. The heart monitor started a steady rhythm and her face turned almost to awe. A single golden feather floated from nowhere to land soothingly on his chest. Behind his family, there were a dozen ghostly wisps and as they saluted, there was a golden eye winking at him buddy-buddy like before he saluted snappily. The group turned on a dime and marched away in perfect formation with the archangel Gabriel at it's head. Alice was holding his hand, now, bandages going up his wrists. Before the doctors wheeled him in for surgery, he took Melissa's hand with his free one and promised in a hoarse whisper, "No more excuses. I'm gonna try."

As they took him into the OR, a nurses phone went off. _"Today I'm gonna try and change the world. Gonna take it one step at a time. I've made my resolution, I've opened up my eyes. Today I'm gonna try and change the world."_

It was the sweetest sound he'd ever heard.

**69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 69696969 6969 **

Somewhere in Canada, an archangel laid on his back looked to the skies and saluted smartly to whichever of his brothers was watching. He was going to be in deep shit for performing this little miracle, but then again, everyone was in deep shit right now. Legion had started a whole different war brewing and things were going to get worse before they got better. Raphael was already losing it, making what happened before seem comparatively sane. Michael and Lucifer were at one another's throats and he and Castiel had fought one too many times this past week. Thinking of the song he'd left the hospital to, he pictured that little girl praying for her daddy and started to hum. _"I'm gonna say hello to my neighbor, greet him with a smile. Shake the hand of a stranger, sit and talk for a while. Tell someone I love them from the bottom of my heart…"_

Today I'm gonna change the world. _Hm. I think I made a pretty good start._

**That, my dears, was the angst, slightly fluffy Remembrance Day chapter. Just wait until Christmas… Oh, and I don't own the song, poem or Supernatural. Song is by Johnny Reid and the poem was written by John McCrae. Love you guys!**


	24. How Michael Ruined Christmas

**Merry Christmas, darling readers! Happy Kwanzaa, Hanukah, Ramadan and all the other celebrations that I'm pretty sure I missed! It has been a while due to essays, three major tests and my English teacher being a bitch. So, here it is. The Twelve days of Christmas thing-y. Here. Take it. It's yours. Just don't kill me for not updating sooner.**

**Disclaimer: Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la. I don't own this awesome show, so, fu-u-u-u-u, u-u-u-dge. Ha! Didn't swear.**

Chapter 24: How Michael Ruined Christmas (For Gabriel)

Christmas.

The time of giving, seeing the smiles on children's faces as they get exactly what they wanted. Couples kissing under the mistletoe and making goo-goo eyes at each other, so in love, with him waiting for the perfect time to pull out the ring. Or her. Feminism and all that. There were people giving gifts to the homeless. A hot meal and a cozy blanket with some clothes without holes in them. Money being stuffed into donation bins in the hopes of making some poor sick kid's life a little less bleak, with hope for a cure. Gabriel tilted his head back and stared straight into the oncoming snow, eyes slightly glowing as he took in the beautiful lights and the happy families running around and beaming at each other.

No wonder Christmas time had one of the highest suicide rates.

Sure, all this stuff was beautiful, but what about the orphans and college students far from home? The ones with no family to go home to and nothing but a beer to keep them company? Gabriel had been around on the very first Christmas and it had been nothing at all like this. It had been small and treasured, not internationalized. Not used to sell consumer crap. Just sweet and pure. Until the shepherds brought their gifts. Sheesh, talk about a mood killer…

Humming to himself, he absently looked at the crime scene pending from one of said suicides and rolled his eyes. The shopping centre. Way to make a statement, dude. A recent divorcee spending her first Christmas alone without her alcoholic husband handing her wine and cheese and she jumps off of a Toys 'r' Us? It was slightly pathetic, but alright. The man a few blocks down hoping to drink himself into a coma on the day his wife died in a car accident?…alright, he had nothing for that one. He had never been in love before so he wouldn't know, now, would he? Point is, high suicide rates on Christmas. Ah, if only Jesus could see it now. _Happy birthday, little brother!_

Seriously, though. Maybe it wasn't that bad. After all, he was finally able to spend this holiday with his brothers. Too bad dad wasn't there, though. He never was. So maybe it wouldn't make a difference but of course, it did. Michael was blaming Lucifer for keeping him away, Lucifer was blaming Michael for blaming him, Raphael had his hands full with angels sick off of a fruitcake that weighed about as much as a building and Gabriel was tired of listening to the moaning and whining. Hence why he was here. The screams of laughter were much better than those of frustration and the terrible sound of Grace-constipated angels. _Eeeew. Bad picture, bad picture!_ Thank Krishna he didn't eat that fruitcake. He was starting to wonder where Balthazar got it.

Snow started to fall around him, banishing the thoughts of suspicious fruitcake and bringing ideas for potential fun. Not with the whole suicide thing but for his favorite knuckleheads. Gabriel _had _been watching them for a really long time. Before they were born, actually, so he knew exactly how suckish a Winchester Christmas was. Dollar store presents for Sam, nothing for Dean and a John that was either drunk out of his mind or injured beyond consciousness. Or a smattering of both. So really, this year he was going to actually let them have a Christmas. With a tree and everything, including ornaments that he had, for some strange reason, kept for a few dozen decades. No idea. Alright, he wanted to decorate a tree in Heaven.

Michael said no.

Michael _hated _this time of the year, more than even John had. Might have been something to do with how he had left but then again, his brother was perpetually sulking over something. That stick up his ass must be poking out of his mouth, by now! He had even helped that guy come up with the idea of Scrooge using his brother as a template. Just a simple message planted in the back of his mind and Voila! a timeless masterpiece. It didn't work like that with Michael. To get results, you have to butt heads for a few dozen centuries, pull out the puppy eyes and threaten to Fall with Lucifer to even get him to consider changing his mind. Even then, he'd probably just lock Gabriel in the Pantheon and ignore the angered screams that followed.

Come to think of it, maybe this Christmas thing was a bad idea.

No. No, Sam had never had a real Christmas in his life and Dean couldn't remember if he ever had. Gabriel wanted to do something special that would undoubtedly piss them off while simultaneously showing his brothers a thing or two. Balthazar would help, that much he knew. Possibly Castiel, if he got over the millions of questions that were required from the kid to get him to understand what it was they were actually doing. Jesus, he understood. The worship? Not so much. It would be a long night trying to get it into his thick skull that they were _not, _in fact, pulling another bronze bull debacle for the son of God, but it could be worth it.

Smiling to himself, Gabriel took one last glimpse of the Big Apple and silently disappeared. He had work to do.

**696969696 Silent Night, Holy Night 969696969 Shepherds Pray, At The Sight 696969696 **

The tree was relatively easy to get, in theory. Just go to a tree farm, pick a nice evergreen, chop it down before mounting it to the family car like a deer in hunting season and drive off. Hell, Gabriel could probably grow a pine tree himself right in the middle of Singer's living room, complete with chirpily singing chipmunks and warbling birds. Reality is, he couldn't do it. When a human goes to a tree farm, they see stumps and have happy, fuzzy thoughts of someone else having picked the perfect one. Then they find their own and, following the above instructions, got one of their own.

Yeah. Not so much for an angel.

These trees screamed out in pain and anguish, sometimes even grief. Gabriel just wanted to cover his ears and walk away, preferably extremely quickly, just to get the sound out of his mind. It hurt his heart knowing that nobody could hear them scream. There was an Elf standing next to him, not really like those from Middle Earth, but an Elf nonetheless, just standing there completely motionless humming to a baby tree. Five minutes later, it had been ripped out of the ground by a family whose little girl wanted a tree of her own. Left in a hazy state, Gabriel made a motion with his fingers and replaced that tree with a fake one, giving the Elf back his weeping bundle of needles. The look he got in return was completely dead and he knew that this particular Fae was not going to be seen next Christmas.

In the end, though, he did find the tree that he wanted. It whispered to him pleadingly and, foregoing the ax, simply reached into the ground and uprooted it. Seems as though the Salvage yard was going to have new life, other than the 'coons and other critters that ran wild through that scrap heap. Thank heavens for that! The sheer amount of those things is terrifying and, though he hates to admit it, raccoons scare the shit out of him. So, he was happy, the tree was ecstatic and he was on to phase two of Operation; Winchester Christmas. On second thought…maybe he should come up with a new codename. He'd seen a Winchester Christmas and was 99.9 percent sure that the demons doing Hell's rumba were having a better time.

Maybe he should call it Operation; Christmas Chimes. Now, Gabriel saw why his brothers never allowed him to name anything. Aw, well. Too late now.

The tree he had now affectionately named Fred made itself perfectly at home right in the middle of the old man's house, roots digging straight through the floorboards with a little help from Gabriel. He also have it's consent to be decorated with corny decorations as long as there was popcorn strands, which didn't make any sense. How was Fred going to _eat _the popcorn? Was he a weretree? Thoughts aside, he only had an hour left before the chuckleheads got back. Not to mention he had no wish to catch a glimpse of Balthazar in his new 'kiss the cook' apron. Chances are, that was all that he _was _wearing. In which case, Gabriel was going to thoroughly use antibacterial measures, of which he knew nothing about, to prevent the sure case of Chlamydia he would receive. The boys? Yeah, their's too. Nobody wants a redo of the Herpexia commercial.

A quick flight to Heaven and ignoring the amused stares later and Gabriel was set to go. Sitting cross-legged under Fred, he waited impatiently for the brothers Winchester to come home. Balthazar swore loudly as the knife slipped again but he paid it no mind, instead wriggling around to get comfortable. And so, he waited. And waited. An-hey, wait! Was that a partridge? A few minutes later, he was waiting again with a mutinous partridge in a flowering pear tree. The squawking made a discordant harmony with Balthazar's kitchen mishaps, which happened at least once every ten minutes or so. Gabriel, being Gabriel, waited for a grand total of half an hour, in which time Michael stared down and worried about his motionless brother.

Then he saw the tree.

Michael had always thought of Christmas as a blasphemous holiday. Not everybody went to church on Sunday, the day of God, but most religions celebrated some form of Christmas for varying reasons. He had never really like Jesus, either. Much too sarcastic and not performing nearly as many miracles as Michael thought he should have. The blind man? Who was that profiting, other than the visually impaired elderly man? Yeah, a lot of citizens were awed by it but not many took the time to actually go to church. That didn't stop them from celebrating the birth of their Lord long after he believed it was past time to let go.

Many might say that Michael was much too hard with his judgment, a job he and Gabriel shared. God had decreed to never let one angel decide the fate of another and so gave the job to two, who never agreed. Michael wanted a harsh punishment for whatever the charges were so that the convicted could never commit such a crime again. But Gabriel always wanted a lighter punishment, believing that a small amount of kindness and an admonishment could set them straight. Admittedly, it worked better than Michael's idea but that wasn't the point. His baby brother celebrating a lazy Lord? _That _was the point.

Eyes narrowing in a visage of what Lucifer like to call the _'oh, shit! Run! I think he's pissed' _look, Michael took a breath and plummeted to earth. Somewhere in Australia, some might say it was the brightest shooting star they had ever seen but one little girl looked at it and whispered under her breath, "What have you done now, dear one?"

Michael's landing was a sight to see. Wings still outstretched and feathers shining in the moonlight, he was made beautiful by the reflection of the Christmas snow. Which promptly burned away in the heat of his furious Grace. The winter wonderland that his brother had created was systematically ripped apart by the dangerously beautiful commander, meaning that when the door carelessly opened and Gabriel opened his mouth to complain he was struck speechless by the plainness of his creation. The teenaged vessel stared wordlessly at him, amber eyes wide. Michael grabbed him roughly by the arm and dragged him outside, ready to vent his frustration. Balthazar silently shrank back into the kitchen, hoping to remain unseen.

The commander of Heaven's armies opened his mouth and let his true voice blast the message straight into Gabriel's mind. It was basically feelings that oppressed the archangel's own and forced him to his knees, giving sudden hiccups at the command he was being forced to answer to. In his mind's eye, Gabriel watched his brother promptly set fire to Fred the tree and snap all of the prepared food away to some place he deemed needed it. Facing his brother sternly, Michael stated, "No more of this nonsense, Gabriel. You have ridiculed Heaven's name with your deeds in the past but I will not allow you to follow through with this idiotic holiday. It was bad enough that you were there for his birth but to prevent him from joining us in death? That is not an _honor!_" He was roaring by the time he got to the second last sentence.

Gabriel knelt silently at his feet. For the first time in his existence, he had no will to contest Michael.

Taking the silence as consent, the eldest gave a small smile before patting his brother's head and flying back to Heaven. When he reached the gates, though, he was not allowed through. Shaking his wings in irritation, Michael growled low under his breath. It was cut off by a hard smack on the back of his head. Whirling around, he was confronted by a sight he had never wanted to see. Something _no _angel, Arch or otherwise, had the slightest inclination of even looking the being in the eyes, powerful and protective as God himself. Seraphiel, the guardian of Father's throne. Protector of all angels and every living being ever created by Him. One glance would be all it would take for her to smite him. God knows it looked like she wanted to.

Another hard smack was delivered by Lucifer, who, when faced with the wide-eyed angry stare of his brother, promptly slapped him again for good measure. It would be worth mentioning that Michael never believed that he would ever see Seraphiel again, nor the day when Lucifer deigned to bring himself to care. Another would be that the two of them had practically adopted Gabriel and would kill whoever made him cry. The tower of Babylon is a good example. A very good example. It lasted for all of three days and had absolutely _nothing _to do with shoddy construction, though it very well might ha-

A sharp punch brought him back. Seraphiel had all ten wings out and dangerously ruffled, features changing between those of a woman and that of a hawk. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest and the fury had only grown from the last time he had looked at her. Risking a glimpse, he was promptly bashed over the head again by Lucifer. Grabbing the hand before it could have another go, he shouted, "Alright, alright! What did I do?"

The deep voice still startled him. "You, little brother, have ruined the little Trickster's spirit with your words. You have destroyed something he saved from death, popped the perfect little world that even I was beginning to enjoy and effectively scared a millennia or more off of Balthazar. Not only that, but you ruined Gabriel's Christmas!" Seraphiel's voice was a high pitched shriek now. "Michael, you melted the snow for miles around! Do you know how much people hate green Christmases? And the kids! I just saw a three year old girl make her first snowman only for it to melt three seconds after she put the carrot on. Do you have any idea how heartbreaking that is? _Do you?!_"

Michael opened his mouth to speak and was again, cut off. "Of course he doesn't. He doesn't like humans any more than I did, but he bowed to them anyways. Always the good son. It doesn't make a difference to him if they're suffering."

"Do not speak to me abo-"

"_NO!_ Do not speak to _me_, Michael. Did you see what Gabriel went through after you started ignoring him? He practically went through withdrawal without the love and attention. Still, you focused on the day when you could kill your own brother. When Gabriel left, you blamed it on Lucifer. When one of your angels died, you blamed it on Lucifer. But Lucifer's Fall? You blamed Gabriel. The only one who didn't want to follow your orders, see it to the very end that his brother was dead and gone. Who prevented it for millennia until a sword was shoved through his stomach- which I still haven't forgiven you for, Lucifer- and he died alone and unwanted. He had adopted humans as a substitute for _you._ You, who weren't there anymore and didn't care to be. Gabriel took the traditions as his own, celebrated different religions while everything here was bloodshed. It was all he had left. Now. Fix this, Michael."

"Ho-"

"_NOW!_ Don't balk-talk me, mister!"

And so Michael went. He flew in a slow circle around the globe, looking at families asleep in their beds, children sneaking downstairs to open their gifts and a few carolers out after dark. There wasn't anything special happening. It was just a day when humans were crazier than usual and maybe slightly less cruel than any other time of the year. The suicides weren't exactly attractive, either. He could understand it but that didn't mean he condoned it.

Finally, his eye was caught by a big city. For a strange reason, too. There was a voice that refused to be ignored and suddenly, it opened up a floodgate of prayers and thoughts. _Please let my daughter live- __**I don't want to be alone…**__-Dear Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name- __**Merry Christmas, children. God willing, maybe next year you'll find a home.- **__Silent night, -__** Oh, my God, please let me be around for this next year!- **__Poor Steve. Alone at this time of year? Maybe the angels will be kinder next season. _Michael hadn't even realized he landed until there was a small hand on his shoulder. Whipping around with a ready snarl, he paused when the only thing facing him was a sweet little face. An eight year old girl with rosy cheeks and dark eyes watched him curiously. "Are you alright, mister?"

Michael took a second to catch his breath before the girl led him to sit against the building. She cuddled up to his side and asked another question. "Why are you here?"

"Because I messed things up."

It was only after he said it did he realize how true the statement really was. Seraphiel probably wasn't going to let him back into Heaven if he didn't fix things and if he went to Gabriel, he'd be hit with a wall of pure angst. It was either make up or sleep in a motel room for the rest of eternity. Neither were exactly desirable but according to his watch, he had five minutes to set up the Winchester's surprise Christmas party before the gates of Heaven locked him out forever. It was plenty of time for him but just in case, he slowed it to a crawl. The girl didn't seem to notice and Michael took that as an invitation to ask her questions about this hated holiday. "Why do you celebrate this day?" It was abrupt and tasteless. She was a child, though, and took no notice.

The girl pondered it. "Well, sometimes, I don't even know. There isn't that much to be happy about and even though it's baby Jesus' birthday we forget a lot of the important things he taught us. We're not compassionate, caring or loving to anyone who isn't family or a friend. We walk by the suffering and don't blink an eye. Not to mention the greed tearing families apart at the seams with little kids demanding more and more every year. Nobody is thankful for what they have. So maybe, we celebrate this day to remember the humanity we've lost. I don't know. You just have to find your own reason to believe."

She didn't sound like an eight year old, spouting off that much intellectual knowledge. Too old. Suspicious now, he asked, "What's your name?"

The girl smiled a little flatly and stated, "I don't remember anymore", before vanishing.

Time sped up again without Michael allowing it to and he cursed before taking flight again. His first stop was the tree farm, where there was a grand total of one full-sized pine whimpering quietly in the snow. Wincing slightly, he ended up doing the exact same thing as his brother and gently removing the tree from the surrounding soil. It calmed soon after his Grace had touched it, which was quite flattering, really. Most living things cowered away from him. Holy fire and all that. It was a little on the bare side, a thing that was easily taken care of.

Michael also had to fly to Heaven to get the rest of Gabriel's strange ornaments, some of which were no more than a piece of tin foil attached to a string. Aziraphael practically shoved them into his arms with a disapproving stare while some of the Hounds snarled and nipped at his heels. Tree and ornaments weighing him down, he came upon a sad sight. Gabriel was sitting where he had left him on his butt in the grass, sniffling slightly. Michael managed two steps before turning around and slinging him into a wing. He didn't even fight it, just shifted around a little before going still. Two minutes left.

Humming deeply to his upset brother while juggling all of the needed 'Christmas' items, he was promptly reminded of the other tree when the sight of three half-burnt twigs put together made itself known. Michael sighed before bringing back the entire thing. He just planted the other tree beside it and was astounded to realize that he had named it Thea. With a simple snap, there were garlands and lights in every nook and cranny the old house had to offer. He shifted his wing to show Gabriel, who's sniffling stopped instantly when he saw a perfectly decorated Fred, a perfectly decorated house, an unscathed Balthazar popping food out of nowhere with Aziraphael and the hideous sweater a sweet old lady had given to Michael for helping her across the street. Somewhere in Heaven was the archangel Ariel laughing her ass off with Seraphiel. But they'd never tell.

Three hours after the popcorn strand were put in the trees, a weary Winchester opened the door and was promptly blinded by lights. Dean swore and groped around for a light switch before being intercepted with something that felt quite deceptively like a male chest. Blinking with his tiny pupils, he grunted, "Sam, that had better be you."

The response from behind him was less than promising.

Somewhere in the middle of all this blind groping, Michael realized that the meaning of Christmas was not, in fact, the birth of Jesus(although it's a goodly part of it)but a celebration of humanity and family. That little girl he had met was right after all. It would be months before Gabriel forced him to read a story called 'The Little "Matchbook Girl', whose starring character bore a startling resemblance to that intelligent lass. She had frozen to death but it was just a story. The wash of Godly love running through him stated the same. In awe, Michael blinked up at the heavens as it started to snow.

But that's getting ahead of the story. In reality time, the hunters were actually quite pleased up until the moment Fred turned in a rather leafy tree-child. "I _knew _he was a were tree!"

**Merry late Christmas, readers! Watch me get the chapter from like, two months ago up in two days. That would be amazing, wouldn't it? Please Review!**


	25. Because of a Dove

**Hello, dear readers! Exams are a bitch, ISU's were hell and the homework load was absolute torture. Even my guitar class gave me homework. But here I am, so please, don't kill me!**

Chapter Twenty Three: Because of a Dove

Today was a special day. Not only because he was actually alive and not bleeding, bruised or otherwise incapacitated but because of his brother. Gabriel had thought it was a special day until he actually thought about what it brought about. Every ten thousand years, an archangel had what humans would call a birthday. Gifts would be given and you could spend time with the siblings closest to you. It was also the day their Father would leave his garden and sit for just a little while, taking time out of his busy day to stroke their hair and praise them for what they had done. Unfortunately, Raphael's birthday fell on the exact date when He had left. Gabriel, himself, had left on Michael's 'birthday'.

Then again, Gabriel also had the worst birthday of all. His was the anniversary of the Fall.

This was Raphael's day, though. The day when Father was supposed to be there and give a gift both beautiful and purposeful. The day supposed to be spent with family, two of whom were quarrelling almost as bad as before the Fall and the third having run away from it all. Meanwhile, a civil war was going on in Heaven since the resistance of before hadn't been entirely crushed by his words. Young angels were eager to prove themselves to this new power, who was actually an old power just come back from 'beyond the grave'. Oh, how he _hated _when this happened! To top it all off, this latest incident had reawakened the insane part of his brother craving the heads of two certain Winchester boys.

After all that he had seen and done, it was shaping up to be a whole new Hell. Therefore, he was incredibly subdued as he sat up in a withered old oak tree just watching the stars twinkle and shine. A tear dropped to the bark when a purple tinged comet raced across the sky. So this was how it would start. Rocking himself slowly, he stroked the head of the last present he had received before everything changed. A silvery dove with a long-feathered tail sat cooing in his lap. She was loyal to him and only him. Síochána had been with him for the long centuries of separation and heartache without uttering a peep or flying away without him. Her song was quiet, like tiny crystal bells that soothed him enough to stop from breaking down entirely. She was singing to him now. Tucked close to his body like a child's stuffed toy.

Síochána didn't sing alone. Gabriel was mouthing the words to a song he'd heard in passing, simply humming along. The thunderstorm made sure nobody could hear. Unfortunately, it also allowed Balthazar to sneak up on him and scare him out of the tree. His dove went away without being seen, which also allowed him to chase Balthazar around until he cried 'uncle'. Or at least, he would have if the old tart hadn't hissed, "There isn't any time for this, Gabe. Raphael is falling apart at the seams and the only two who would be able to stop him other than you are fighting to the death inside the Pantheon." Well, shit. "I'm getting the boys out of here."

It was entirely possible that there wasn't a word he could say that would make things right. Ever since Legion, Lucifer had been distant from them. Michael blamed himself and Raphael was driving himself insane trying to fix everything. Gabriel? Well, he was doing what he did best. Running. Stunned, he allowed Balthazar to get past him and make a ton of Godfather references in order to explain what was happening. Numbly, he supplied the lamb's blood needed and slumped to the floor with his head in his hands. Technically, he could do what the fledgling was doing without the mess but where was the fun in that? More importantly, he didn't really think he could send them to an alternate dimension without things like piranhas and man-eating sloth-crocodiles. It's even more likely that they would simply cease to exist entirely.

With Balthazar crushing the vertebrae, he looked at the gawking Winchesters tiredly and explained, "He's putting you somewhere safe."

"Where's Cas?" Of course that would pop in somewhere.

"He is deep, deep underground. So, good old Raffy put out a hit list on every last samaritan who helped our dear Cass - Including both of you. And so much more importantly, me. See, he wants to draw Cass out in the open." Balthazar tried not to show it, but he was scared. He sent Gabriel a slightly pleading look and stated, "You'll go after him."

It wasn't as if there was any questioning it. Of _course _he was going after the fledgling. Only Castiel could be up shit creek without a paddle and then find a body post-mortem to wade through it with. In simple terms, he was going to have to fight his brother on the one day in ten thousand years that they're supposed to be a family. But it was either that or feel his former fledgling die a second time, feel that connection crackle and hiss in agony before cutting off completely. He would also have to protect the others. There were at least fifteen other angels that he just knew would be on Raph's shit-list, if not already eliminated.

"Like hell, he'll go after him. Why should we believe you?"

"You don't have a choice, boys. You'll go wherever Gabriel and I throw you."

That was when he knew something was wrong. Balthazar knew the spell like the blade of his sword and he had enough power to use it. Unless he had- "Sprung a leak, Balthy?"

"Well, Raffy _did _send one of his nastiest henchmen to kill me. I might actually be flattered, if I wasn't pretty sure I was missing a lung." Opening his coat, he revealed a gash that glowed a faint blue. Gabriel hissed in sympathy for the pain he must be feeling before snatching the keys from the blinking angel's inner coat pocket. "Easy, Gabe! Anyways, take them and run. Fast and as far as you can. Gabriel and I will try to hold them off."

A flutter of wings was all that announced Virgil's presence. That, and Balthazar being flung across the room. Gabriel snatched one of his blades and made an attempt not to kill his brother while simultaneously keeping him away from the Winchesters. It wasn't as if the blade could kill him. It would sting like hell when it struck but no, it would never kill him. Balthazar staggered to his feet and pushed them towards the blood symbol he had made, the one for 'travel'. And travel they did. "Hey, looks like we got the last laugh, huh?"

Virgil was now Grace-bound but they had another problem. Fifteen, actually. It looked as though Raphael had sent bits and pieces of his garrison after Balthazar, not intending to ever find Gabriel. Which was a true shame, for them. Half an hour later, he and Balthazar were walking out of Singer's house(what was left of it) in mostly one piece covered in blood and feathers. Okay, so he had bound their wings too. Big deal. He had a fledgling to find. The major problem was that Raphael knew him much too well. Quite literally inside and out. He must have known that if Castiel went missing, Gabriel would travel the earth for the next four million years to find him and rip the imposer limb from limb. Unless…

That was what he wanted. This entire situation was so screwed up, Gabriel couldn't tell left from right anymore. If Raphael was going after the Winchesters, it would mean one of two things. That he had lost his mind and decided to pull a Lucifer or that he needed them out of the way for something ridiculously stupid that involved blood, guts and a shit-load of Grace. Someone in Heaven was a traitor, that much was obvious. Whoever was being hunted down had nothing to do with them but since he liked to think positive, he was going to go with option number two. Unless there was a third option that completely screwed over everyone involved, as was so often the case. In that event, there was a fourth option. Something from the pit had escaped, probably something with the power to terrorize angels. Definitely not an…It. But still up there.

So now the only question was why Gabriel himself hadn't been told. Why couldn't he feel what was going on in Heaven? The only answer crushed him. They were breaking apart again, just like before the Fall. Taking sides in that stupid argument that for all he knew, involved Swiss cheese instead of cream on top of a bagel. It was ridiculous how easy it was to set them off again after a few millennia of hating each other. Back to the point, however. If there was a traitor, chances were that he or she was searching for the Winchesters and that Raphael knew exactly who it was.

And Michael said he could never be a detective…

There was no room for tears anymore. After all that had happened, there was only space left for anger and a deep, soul-sucking pain. Balthazar was giving him funny looks and he knew that his expression was sure as Hell about to make him piss himself. That was what he wanted. Turning around sharply, he stalked back into the house and grabbed one of his subordinates by the wings. The shrill screams were cut off with a heavy right-hook to the stomach, accompanied by the sickly sound of snapping ribs. Gabriel didn't listen to his little brother trying to reason with him. Instead, he got up close and personal with the bound angel and hissed, "Where the fuck is he, Joliel?"

She spat in his face.

Gabriel snarled and put her through a wall. Grabbing her wings in a firmer grip, he pulled slightly. The hitch in her breath was like music to his ears. Putting his mouth closer to her ear, he murmured sweetly, "I'll give you one last chance, _sister._ Where is Raphael? _Where is he?!_"

After a couple of minutes and no answer in sight, his grip became unbearable. She screamed as her wings were pulled straight from their bases, nothing but flesh connecting them to her body. Joliel's Grace was flooding the area, trying desperately to mend the dislocations, but even as she screamed Gabriel didn't stop. His hands were coated liberally in blue blood as they worked tirelessly, twisting the feathered appendages until they grinded and popped against the joints. There was a thick haze around his vision that somehow made everything much clearer to him. Tossing aside the wings, Gabriel tossed her limp body as far away from himself as he could. Balthazar was shouting at him and he finally took the time to listen. "Stop! Just…" Trailing off, he looked at him with some strange emotion surfacing in his eyes. They quickly hardened and soon, there was a sword headed straight for his heart.

Gabriel snarled slightly and flung him into the space-time continuum. Grieving for what he had just lost, he swept himself away to the realm of knuckleheaded wonderment. There was no time to explain what he had figured out to Balthazar, especially when the kid had his hands on a blade. _His _blade. After the whole Lucifer debacle, you would have thought he'd keep it in a better hiding place. One would have thought he'd stop carrying the damned thing all together.

But no. Balthazar was holding an archangel's blade, pursuing an archangel who had wanted nothing more than to find his brothers and make things right again. At _all _costs. He could regret what was done to Joliel after everything was back to normal because right now, there wasn't enough room in his heart to do any more. This was proved wrong when he made it just in time for 'Jensen's' makeup mishap. Choking on a snicker, he waited for the hunter to whip around so he could point and laugh. Eye twitching, he hissed out of hearing range of the woman, "You think this is funny? Dude, this is fricking scarring enough as it is! I-I'm like, a painted whore!"

That did it. What little composure he had managed to maintain was gone in an instant, falling to the floor gasping for air. "Oh, Father. C-can't…can't _breath!_" This was so much better than he thought it would be. And to think, Balthazar wanted to send them to Antarctica and turn them into penguins. Entertainment factor goes to his reality, though. Plus, Raphael couldn't break through it. Wiping tears from his eyes, Gabriel asked, "Where'd Sammy go? He really needs to see this."

"Uh, some hot chick took him."

"…for what, exactly?"

"Dunno. Private interview?"

Well, shit. This is going to be even better than Dean wearing makeup. And he was right. It was. The sheer awkwardness of 'Jared's' answers were like music to his ears. Very discordant music that was enough to laugh at but got extremely painful to the ears after long periods of time. Yes, he had sent them to TV land again but this time would be less painful. This was their own show in an alternate reality with just enough surprises to keep himself amused. Gabriel did, after all, come through here to torment the actors who looked like pain-in-the-ass one and two whenever they pissed him off. They were now paranoid and slightly off kilter but that was even better.

It took the chuckleheads a while to get their act together and realize that they were on a TV show. Maybe because it wasn't like the one he'd shoved them into before Castiel discovered his name. "-and I'm something called a 'Jared Padalacki'."

"What, so now you're Polish?"

Wow. Gabriel might be able to see the future but even he couldn't have seen _that _level of pure idiocy. "First of all, Sam. That would be your name, not an it. Get used to it because you could be here for a while. Maybe a week if I get lucky. But I haven't so you might want to adapt. Quickly. Second. Really? Does It matter? Dude, your name is _Jensen Ackles _and you're making fun of him?" Dean didn't have anything further to say.

Of course, then they walked through the door of the studio and the first thing Dean saw? The Impala. s. Plural. He was pretty sure there wasn't a name for the color the poor kid turned but he was 99% sure it wasn't to be found on any color wheel. Nor was it a healthy shade or a flattering look as an Olay foundation any time soon. Frankly, Gabriel didn't understand the attachment to the car. It smelled permanently of fast food, blood and other bodily fluids best not mentioned in polite company. There were a few dints that Dean had yet to hammer out after the last incident, a few loose springs in the seats, etc. Although he had to admit, it was a smooth ride otherwise. Perhaps he had even grown fond of it.

That still didn't stop him from laughing at the over dramatization of the scene. They weren't even on set but this? This was pure comedy _gold. _Choking a bit, he guided Dean over to a chair and sat down in front of him. "Dean-o, this is an alternate reality. One where you don't give a damn about the car because it isn't yours. One where it doesn't have to be repaired every week because a poltergeist threw the Samsquatch through the roof. Hell, one where there isn't real blood stains in the ba-"

"Bloodstains? There's stains in my baby? Dude, not cool."

"There may also be a half-eaten enchilada that I dropped while praying for my life after that car chase in Kentucky. What of it?"

"…"

"…"

"…Gabriel."

"Yeah. I'll get right on that. You know, on the off-chance it didn't go through the broken window. Well, anyways, I should probably get back. If you see Balthazar for some reason, tell him I know what I'm doing and if he would stop trying to kill me, that would be awesome. Ttyl!" Here's to hoping he didn't just pop out right in the middle of an ambush or something.

And, two seconds later, he was peering around the corner in a surprisingly safe warehouse trying to get a lock on Castiel's Grace. Lucifer would be great at the moment, too, but Michael probably had him under lock and key. His own Grace was tucked so tightly inside his vessel it was starting to get painful but at this point, it was either that or have angel squad on his ass. He could definitely out-fly them all yet there was still the preference of staying lazy and just walking around laughing at the look on their faces. Looks like a duck, quacks like a duck, smites like an Archangel. And evidentially, doubles as an answering machine.

"_Dear Castiel, who art…maybe, running his ass away from Heaven,_ _we pray that you have your ears on. So, breaker, breaker…"_

That. Was the saddest prayer he had ever heard in his life. Pace-palming, Gabriel sighed and felt like bashing his head against the wall. Answering the prayer with sarcasm oozing from every word, he shot back, _"Alpha-Charlie-Tango, we hear you. Would you like me to put you on hold? What part of WE CAN'T REACH CASTIEL didn't you knuckleheads get? Yes, Raphael locks him up so you don't have a hope of finding him and one prayer later, he's suddenly there like fricking Mary Poppins! So congratulations. You just broadcasted your location to every angel earth-side and a few powerful ones in Heaven. I'm giving you a day before I bust your asses out and toss you into TV land. So hurry the he- are you even listening to me?…no. Why do I bother?"_

"_Cass is right there!"_

"_That isn't Castiel. It's an alternate reality version of Jimmy. Alternate reality equals no angels. No angels means no Castiel. Get it?"_

"…_shit."_

"_Good. Now shut up and let me work."_

Element of surprise? Gone. Cover? Blown. Chances of survival after facing a platoon of twenty heavily armed soldiers who were staring at you with the bright-eyed look of the criminally insane? Slim to none. Chances of running away like a pansy screaming like Tarzan? Well. No one would hear him anyways. Opening up his wings, he gave a quick smirk as he saw them flinch away from the blinding gold before quickly taking flight. Through the prairies with wheat somehow getting in his mouth, over the Swiss alps in a suddenly awake and complaining vessel and through the oceans, discovering that there really _was _one of his monstrous dolphins left **(AN: See the Village Idiot. Leave the rest to the imagination. Seriously. It isn't pretty.)**after it thoughtfully took a bite out of half of the platoon. While they regrouped, he braved the odds to go up to it and scratch it's chin, cooing, "Daddy's little girl!"

Surprisingly enough, it liked it and didn't try to eat him. And apparently, it was female. Patting it quickly on the head, he continued his journey as the others finally regained their limbs-er, wits. Yeah. Getting to the point, the chase lasted for a while until he lost them somewhere around Venus. A whole two minutes long, actually. They moved fast for a heavily-armed platoon. He hummed 'You Are My Sunshine" under his breath as he passed by the… well, the sun.


	26. In Which A Realization Is Made

**Wow. I didn't mean to be gone that long. Honestly, I just suck. So, I'm completely deviating from the episode plot and you probably won't see the boys again until the end. Plenty of angels, though. Maybe Crowley, though I'm not certain how he'll fit. Alright, part two.**

**Disclaimer: I'm surprised you people haven't forgotten about me, by now. Don't own anything but this story. The plot and maybe one or two characters. Everything else? Not mine. Now that I think about it, the plot might not be mine either…oh well.**

Previously(Then)

_One quick trip through the stratosphere later and he was exactly where he had started. With the addition of a sorry-looking Archangel who goes by the name of Raphael._

"_Wow. Shit…__"_

Chapter 26: In Which A Realization Is Made

"Goddamn fucking piece of shit angel-radar! You worked five seconds ago, why not now? Hi, Raph, you weren't supposed to be here. And may I say, _damn, _where the hell did you get that vessel? Because she is hot, but you're kinda along for the ride so now this is…incredibly awkward. So, I'm just going to back away slowly in the hopes that there is no one behind me and oh holy Hell! Is that Manuel? I'm screwed." Manuel, in case you are wondering, was currently in what looked like a member of the Russian Bratva. The kind who were likely to shoot you and stuff you into the trunk of a car before pushing your body through the ice.

Oddly fitting, for an angel of vengeance.

Raphael raised a vindictive eyebrow and smirked. _Um, okay._ He didn't know when his brother had learned how to even move his facial muscles more than a millimeter, but it certainly was creepy. Especially on the Meghan Fox stripper-girl he had settled into. His brain started to rebel viciously against his eyes and more importantly…yeah, it was awkward. And he was talking. His breasts were heaving against the little bra he was wearing and it was very distracting. Raphael paused in his speech, rolled his eyes and put on a trench coat. "Are you listening now, Gabriel?" he asked condescendingly.

"I'm going to be completely and utterly honest with you. No. What were you saying?"

He sighed. "Until you learn how to put family first, I am hereby cutting you off from your grace. How about now?"

Silence. Cue verbal diarrhea.

"Wait, what! Run that by me again and while you're at it, make an Appendix complete with dictionary lookup. What do you mean, you're cutting me off from my grace? You can't even do that! Only Metatron and his choir can do that and last time I checked, you hadn't sprouted an extra pair of wings and another tongue. Why does he have two, anyways? How the hell does he manage to use both at the same time? If he has a seizure, can he choke on both of them? Can angels even _have _seizures? Where the hell are the other six choirs? Wait, we only have three. Raphael, why don't you sing? I'm sure you'd be good at it if you really tried. I've heard you humming and I think you're a bass-"

"Shut up, Gabriel."

The distraction had worked, though. Manuel had relaxed his guard enough that it was easy to take a swing at his head and make a break for it. And again, Gabriel went through the gauntlet and fed his little brother to the semi-dolphin. Seriously, why had he destroyed them? They were the best attack dogs since Cerberus! "I think I'll call you Lola."

He needed a better plan. Seriously.

Lola grumbled happily at the attention before swimming back to her abyss. The whole encounter with Raphael had brought him to a bit on an impasse. On the one hand, it was pretty clear that his brother was either perfectly sane and normal or a complete and utter psychopath. Though, now that he thought about it the title would probably fit him more. He liked killing, he didn't feel particularly bad when he did it and…well, that was it. Okay, so not a complete psychopath. Maybe 20%. But not like Raphael. So, his brother was possibly 47% sociopath with a few anxiety and anger issues. Close enough.

On the other hand, things were…weird. First, when had Raphael been able to lift a single eyebrow? Second, why would he take Castiel when there were a thousand better people to take? Like Sam. The uncoordinated gentle giant who had a love for asking people about their feelings. Or Dean, who had an aversion to telling Sam _about _said feelings. And who made fun of him for his height. Okay, so maybe just Sam, then. Why Castiel, specifically? He really had no real outcome where Castiel wasn't replaceable. It sounded terrible but it was true. Raphael didn't care if he liked the fledgling because he really didn't have a handle on human emotions. Or any emotions, really. He didn't understand the concept of love for anything but their Father, or loyalty to Michael and Heaven. It was pretty sad, really. He'd been like that in the beginning and it had been Sigyn who drew him out. She taught him how to love and then-these weren't even his own memories. He had never known Loki's wife and he had never loved anything as much as he had Father. Gabriel was at a loss.

After all these years, he was still comparable to Raphael.

So. Raphael wouldn't have taken Castiel, he would have taken someone important like Joshua or Elijah. Someone Heaven couldn't live without and would die permanently because lets face it, Castiel's one lucky little fucker. He'd already been resurrected for God's greater poker hand and it was likely that he would be again, if he died. Hell, Gabriel could bring him back if needed! Why Cas?

The answer almost made him smack himself. _Fuck. _His wings. Castiel's wings were as plain as any soldier's but they had one thing different. The Enochian runes covering them were ancient. Like, ancient ancient. So ancient, he didn't have the slightest clue what they were for. Samiel might have but that was because he was one of the eldest. There really did used to be six choirs; half were dead and gone, never coming back, pushing up daisies. Take your pick. Problem was, not a soul knew where the old boy had gone. He hadn't died like the rest of the choirs during the Leviathans; Gabriel would know. Samiel had dragged himself and the third choir back to Heaven, all alone, to stand before God and recite their losses. That had been Gabriel's job, as the messenger. To tell all of the fledglings that their guardians were never coming back, tell their father that some of His most gorgeous creations had been destroyed, ripped apart and eaten like a Slurpee. Gabriel concluded that life had sucked, back then. Still kinda did, actually. Samiel's runes had changed and he had disappeared. Which sucked even more.

He was starting to wonder if this was some kind of trend.

Maybe they were like his and Michael's wings. The runes were coordinates and stories of monsters that had been locked deep beneath the ground for the sake of the earth and all that inhabited it. Some were names of siblings that had been cast down in disgrace after judgment, though Gabriel was less decorated in that than Michael. Others still were markers for sins that they had committed. Michael was all but free of those. Gabriel imagined that they cluttered themselves in ugly little patterns over his feathers, reminding him that he can never forget what he had done. What did Castiel's hide?

He didn't give a rat's ass about what they meant. He had the attention span of a gnat and there was currently a shimmering butterfly fluttering adoringly in his face. He watched it go past him in bewilderment. He was still underwater. _Looks like those sea butterflies of Lucifer's are still going strong. _Back to Castiel's wings. What-the-hell ever they released wouldn't be good for anyone, so why was Raphael going to?

Unless he wanted to give the world a do-over. Which was a terrible plan, because it basically involved blowing up good ol' Terra Firma and replacing it with a ball of cooling lava that would over thousands of years develop into one big ocean full of volcanoes. Which would make continents. Blah, blah, blah, evolution, fish meets land and voila! You get the deformed creature from the black lagoon. But it wasn't as simple as that. The saying 'life finds a way' is taken way too literally. _Everything _resets. Time, space, Lindsay Lohan's rehab... In the end, nothing's really changed except how much time and effort has been put into creating the same damned thing. And how much you just pissed of the creator of all living things, God. Yes he had experience and yes, it was an accident. He had just wanted to play with the lave, honest! And that was how he discovered how much he could _not _control rock, no mater how liquid it looks. Trial and error was a way of life, not for use on ridiculous Math problems. So, three earths later and he had been grounded up until Marie popped. Oh, happy day.

So, the do-over was probably out. In which case left the location to the entrance of Purgatory, which he hoped to all that was Holy(including himself) was not in any way, shape or form on the wings of an impressionable fledgling. Blinking hazily in the water, he looked far, far up and stared straight at the Lord's seat with his pupiless eyes before hissing, "Oh, no you didn't!"

And not in the diva way, either.

Six wings burst from his back and propelled him skywards at an incredible speed. Blurring through the clouds, he burst unceremoniously through the gates of Heaven and gawked at the sight before him. It wasn't quite the apocalypse, but then again, it was much worse than that. There were no hordes of demons or the undead loitering around and torturing angels until their last breaths. There was no fighting, no squabbling, no sparring, no training, no off-key singing, no fledglings dancing around in their little togas on, no cherubs dancing around _without _their togas on and no prayers whispering through his head. There was no Michael, no Raphael or Lucifer. No garden, abyss, oasis or tree of souls. Not even the ghostly specter of Elvis still trying to leave the building. Because that was just it. Heaven wasn't there.

Okay, that's a bit of a lie. There was still a gate of gleaming gold that songs had been sung about, although there was no stairway to Heaven like Bob Dillon had wrote. Sly old bastard. He'd never been. Gabriel walked through gates that creaked as they swung open, dying plants crackling their last as they fell away in shades of brown and black. Dust whipped around his feet in tiny storms. Everything was completely deserted and it was creepier than Hell could ever hope to be. It looked like the inside of a horror movie; he was stepping on abandoned swords and shed feathers, some still soft with down. Gabriel looked around at the lack of life when a sudden shiver went down his spine. He breathed the still air and turned slowly to face Death.

The Horseman looked as alive as ever, which is to say, he may be Death but he had a wicked tan. Being in Hell would do that to you. He wasn't wearing black robes, either. Gabriel drew a sharp breathe. He was wearing God's robes. His Father's clothing. Which, come to think of it, shouldn't be as strange as the rest of all this but reminded him just a little bit too much of Little Red Riding Hood. The silvery blood covering the sleeves was a nice touch, too. A little bit much. Swallowing slowly, he murmured, "You know, I always thought you were joking when you said that you would reap God someday."

He threw back his head and laughed. Death shouldn't laugh. Death shouldn't open his mouth and show the toothless abyss of a maw that clearly lacked tonsils and a uvula. Not to mention the black pits filled with endless flames; that would dull down even the sturdiest of whore's appetite for bare backing it. Not that the theory had been tested. Truth be told, Death wasn't such a bad guy once you got past his sense of humor. Which, really, you couldn't because by then you were dead. But he had a soft spot for the fledgling who had cheated destiny a thousand times over and in exchange for a few favors, would allow him to keep his vessel alive even though the spirit was dying. After all, he _had _been chained to a rock with acid being dribbled into his eyes when Gabriel had found him. He kind of figured they wouldn't miss him.

So, Death wasn't a bad guy. But he wasn't good, either. Life and death are like a double bladed sword. Both sides can kill you; it's just a matter of when and if there will be a quick, merciful death or a crippling, agonizing life. Although to be fair, they had to follow the threads that fate wove for them and couldn't deviate from the godforsaken yellow brick road. Death nodded his head in Gabriel's direction and hissed croakily, "Little messenger! How did you get here, I wonder? Through death, there is no way, because that is I and I gave you no permission to leave Hela. Why do you leave your brothers? _Yeeeesss, _I suppose it is painful watching their torment but they locked with that insolent child. They very much deserve it, Ga'vrael."

Death went on, and on, and on. Gabriel promptly tuned him out exactly the same way he did with Michael, still staring at his Father's blood. _What the fuck is this? This, this is __**not **__the way I saw it. _And-hell, it still wasn't! That little shit Balthazar had sent him away, too! Into a screwy dimension with no God, enslaved angels and a strange lack of prayers floating around in his head. He internally smacked himself. Then physically smacked himself just for good measure. How did he not notice? All those little pointers, Raphael raising an eyebrow, the fact that Death had his stupid ring back, Hell, even the fact that his dove wasn't with him. Death was still blathering on. "Oh, for Michael's sake, shut up!"

He slammed the heel of his palm against the air in front of him and watched as the dimension crumbled to dust before he flew to the next one. Still in Heaven, he hid himself behind an ivory pillar and peeked sideways. His heart leapt into his throat and he struggled not to scream. There was a single nest. And in that single nest was two baby angels, each with six tiny wings. Moaning and pounding his head against the hard surface of the pillar, he stopped immediately when he heard a tiny sniffle. Poking his head back out to look, Gabriel watched a tiny Lucifer blink his eyes open and coo in confusion. When Michael didn't respond he just cooed louder.

Oh, God. His face was starting to scrunch up in an imitation of the typical 'I'm-going-to-cry-so-loudly-your-ancestors-will-he ar-it' look.

Biting his lip hard, he slowly covered his ears before the inevitable came. Which, inevitably, of course, it did. The powerful shockwaves of a baby Archangel's screams pounded through Heaven with the power of a thousand nuclear bombs. The Legion was panicking somewhere in the training fields but Michael? He just turned over. "Shit!" he breathed. Rushing forward, he took a quick moment to acknowledge that Father was going to kill him before scooping the fussy little ass into his arms. The crying was even louder at point-blank but really, what can you do? After taking a breath, he blew out a glob of water before starting to make shapes with it.

Lucifer hummed a little, pausing in his fit to reach for the water-butterfly. Gabriel grinned and turned it into a mouse, then a cat. The last one made him squeal in laughter and the water froze into a perfect sculpture of a Tabby kitten. It sort of resembled Hershey, actually. He missed that little ball of fur. Stroking the black hair away from his eyes, he stopped in his tracks when Michael began snuffling and feeling around for his brother. _Oh, shit. _Upon not finding him, he rolled over and veritably froze when he saw his precious baby sibling in the arms of a strange brother with six wings. Squawking an alarm and bawling for Father, he charged towards Gabriel with a sword the size of a pen.

Intimidating.

Stifling a laugh, he nonchalantly put a hand out and held him back. The frustrated cries of 'Daddy!' made his heart hurt, because he had never gotten the chance to see Michael like this. Sweet. Innocent. Not lecturing, ripping wings out of their sockets or holding his broadsword to a trainee's throat. Just a snuggly little bundle of down. Sighing and thinking, _Aw, to hell with it, _he scooped Michael to his chest as well. The squealing was that of a demented pig, but at least he stopped poking him with that little dagger. Lucifer cooed happily and snuggled up to the extra warmth. Gabriel was pretty sure his heart just turned to absolute mush.

Cries of alarm came from behind him. He rolled his eyes and gracefully ducked the thrown paperweight. Seraphim; they weren't the deadliest creatures in the supernatural animal kingdom. The sound of footsteps and fading shouts slowly died to silence as Lucifer realized that he just may not be in the safest possible place. Paying more attention to his big brother, his grey eyes widened when he saw Michael struggling to get away. Gabriel shushed the both of them in ancient Enoch and waited for the sword to prick the curve of his spine. He allowed himself to grin. The choirs were still alive in this dimension because there had been no Leviathans yet. The sword prickling his back was unusually cold for an angel's flaming sword so that could only mean one person.

"Turn around."

Humming in acquiescence, he blinked his golden eyes and slowly shifted to face his older brother. "Hello, Samiel."

He heard the murmurs start about his eyes, his wings and his height. The swords attached to his back were a good source of gossip, too. Samiel just looked him straight in the eyes and hissed, "Put the fledglings down, Fallen."

Gabriel was insulted. Fallen? He felt like a Fallen? Snorting irritably, he opened up his grace and caressed the souls of every living thing around him with a touch as smooth as water. Michael shivered but Lucifer preened under the attention, practically crawling up his body. The answer he was looking for came a few seconds later. The angels in the nesting sight jolted when they felt the summons of God. Samiel turned threateningly towards him and opened his mouth to speak but he was already moving with his formerly big brothers. The Legion followed, of course.

God me them halfway there, eyes glued to the fledglings in his grip. He looked resigned to smiting Gabriel until he looked into his eyes. Making a surprised sound, he shrunk himself down to his height and used his hand to push up his chin. Father stared at his bicolor eyes and just to help him out a little, Gabriel flared his six wings that were only slightly smaller than Samiel's. God sighed. "Gabriel. What are you doing here?"

God was kind of universal, when it came to dimensions. There always was one and there always would be. Difference was that they were connected. They were omnipotent that way and one always knew what was going on in another realm, what they had to watch out for. Not that they could do anything, anyways; he couldn't go against the path already carved out for his children. He couldn't stop Lucifer from falling any more than he could prevent Michael from becoming an asshole. He also didn't appreciate it much when someone else messed with his plans. Bowing his head, Gabriel intoned, "Traveling, Father. There is trouble where I come from and I don't know how to fix it."

Jesus, he sounded like a drone!

God raised a single eyebrow. "Really? It sounds more like you got lost. Balthazar tossed you into the multiverse, did he?"

Fuck. "Uh, yeah. He really has no sense of direction and I'm pretty sure this is payback for last April Fools Day." Pause. " Okay, every April Fools Day. But still, this is ridiculous! I don't even know what dimension I'm in! Is it the one wit-"

"Gabriel."

Stopping mid-rant, he turned back around and was met with the stern face. Shit. Slumping dejectedly, he muttered, "Thanks for your help, dad," before putting down the fledgling versions of his brothers and taking flight. This version of God was totally the worst. **I heard that. **_Of course you did, you're omnipresent too! _He really didn't expect an answer for that and he didn't receive one, either. The next universe that he landed in was equally fucked up. _Why the hell is there always one with us as cats?_

That's right. Cats. Or, more specifically, kittens. Tiny little bundles of fur that were currently snuggled up to a rather large tom cat with smooth white and gold fur. It was giving him these eyes that practically screamed 'I-can-see-into-your-soul-and-I-am-less-than-impre ssed. Either that, or 'feed-me-tuna'. It was surprisingly hard to tell on a feline. The four little bundles of fur were easily recognizable, as well. Michael was a grey kitten with a Holier-than-thou white ear and, as he soon discovered, wicked sharp teeth and claws. The kitten glared up at him with judgment practically being screamed so that the doomed souls in Hell could hear it. Not to mention the lung. Shit, that mew was damned piercing!

Lucifer wasn't exactly a surprise, either. The kitten was neatly grooming his Russian blue coat to perfection, swiping paws tenderly over his ears in the pantomime of elegance. He had the typical markings of a tuxedo cat, as well; perfect white bib, white tipped ears and paws with a single splash of white on his nose. Dark eyes looked at him coolly before the instant dismissal. Yep. That was definitely Lucifer.

Raphael. He was just…well. Raphael. Raphael kitten was currently attempting to arrange feathers in front of God-cat with limited success. He was squeaking in annoyance at a long-haired, raggedy ball of pure fluff that was eagerly pouncing on the fluffiness. There were red marks on his paws and white ones splotching his charcoal fur. He was currently hissing and spitting at what appeared to be his counterpart, Gabriel-kitten. We'll call him Fred, for the sake of not confusing the hell out of himself. Fred was just…actually, he had no idea.

It was actually pretty sad to look at, and it hurt his heart a little. He would always be the scrappy little misfit hanging around where he wasn't wanted. He had no idea who or what he was, though clearly he wasn't accepted for it. God-cat was paying no attention to the kittens; there was a contented rat under his paw that was currently receiving a bath. Lucifer-kitten huffed with resignation in his eyes and anger in his fast-beating little heart. Michael steered clear of the ugly brown thing altogether. Raphael stared. Fred? He poked, and poked, and poked until the thing turned around and took a chunk out of his leg. The little thing wailed, and then Gabriel knew that he had been wrong about Fred.

He was actually very much over-protected. And he was now pretty sure that the rat was a Leviathan.

As soon as the first blood had been shed, God-cat turned away from the little beast sadly and curled up around the kittens instead. Michael pounced on the rat with Raphael, killing it with a bite to the neck, while Lucifer rumbled and twined himself around the bawling ball of grime-covered fluff. Resting his neck on Fred's head, he started to purr while God-cat nuzzled at him. Michael was quick to swat him over the head before dragging him over gently by the scruff, risking many a hairball to come, to have his wound licked and fussed over. Raphael started to clean his fur with Lucifer, God-cat occasionally joining in. Under the grime, his coat was…unique.

Splashes of gold and amber melded with both black and white patches of tufted fur. The tiny face was wrinkled in distaste for the bath until he was presented with the long-suffering Lucifer's perfectly fluffed tail. The results were a sleeping Fred and a Lucifer that would probably be unable to move for the next several hours. The whole thing surprised him, actually. _Always thought I'd be a tabby. _"But I'm a calico, aren't I?"

God-cat gave him the penetrating stare and sneezed. "Gesundheit."

Sighing, he muttered, "Once more into the breach," before leaving this reality much more gently than he had the first.

Gabriel had to have gone through at least a dozen universes, each equally strange, disturbing and sweet in equal measures. There was the one where they were all girls, and Michelle was dating Dean while Lucia danced erotically with Sam. He still felt incredibly scarred by the female-him cuddled up to Crowley, of all people. Not to mention he was a kick-ass stripper in angel wings and a teeny-tiny tutu. He was pretty sure Raphael was the one pole dancing but he didn't stick around to find out where God fit in during all of this.

Then there was the one where they were human and Lucifer was apparently in the Mafia, Michael was a housewife, Raphael was still _very clearly _Raphael and Gabriel was an adrenaline junkie with a currently broken arm and a habit of smoking weed. When they saw him, they stared for a good five minutes before Raphael blurted out his secret weed habits to Michael as a way to blame the smoke for their shared hallucination. Never mind that he didn't precisely go away after the window was opened; he had gotten the other him into rehab, so that was okay.

Then they were into the dimension in which Michael had Fallen instead of Lucifer. That…wasn't exactly a gay ol' time so he's pretty sure it'll be left at that. The world with the Neanderthals was much better, anyways. The angels were much more lighthearted without the weight of the human's problems and grief falling onto their heads from on high. They watched and laughed at the antics of humans evolved barely past the monkeys they had sprung from. God muttered vaguely in the background, complaining that they should have chosen humans instead because they were ever so much more interesting. Gabriel opened his mouth to refute that statement and was promptly hissed at. "Go home, Gabriel!"

Yeah, well, he was trying. He was then sucked right into the middle of a dimension where Michael and Lucifer were gay. For each other. And doing it rather loudly in the center of his vision. He left that one as promptly as he had arrived.

He didn't know when, exactly, he had started singing Michael Buble, but his voice warbled, 'I wanna go home', at top volume before he got bored of it. He passed the one where God was still around, where the Horsemen still had their rings. Where Dean was Batman, of all things! And for fuck's sakes, why did Sam have to be Robin? Why not replace those little tights? Sighing, he face-palmed and remembered now why he only ever sent his Grace to other places. At least with TV land, he had a controller. After directing the Joker to kill Batman, he left the place with Commissioner Gordan- or , maybe God-an, glaring at him in disapproval.

He flew right through the one where Lucifer hadn't been put back into his cage, the one where he had stayed dead forever, where all of the Archangels had been dragged into Purgatory. Gabriel smashed like the Hulk into what felt like hundreds of other dimensions before turning up at the most normal one so far. The Winchester boys were children in his dimension. Dean quiet and haunted and Sam, bubbly and cooing as a baby. He half wanted to pick them up and run away from their fate but it was an easy move to abort from.

Gabriel closed his eyes and tilted his head back. "Alright, Dad. I get it. I get that I'm quick to judge people after they've repented for doing bad things. I know that you love me in spite of that and no one would change me for the world. I know that I shouldn't hold grudges, but it's hard, okay?" He sighed. "I went from having three older brothers to none in the span of two hundred years and then suddenly, they're back again? Not good enough. Not solid enough to believe, okay? It feels like it's going to happen all over again and my heart will be exactly where it was when I left thousands of years ago. It's easy to keep smiling, yeah, but when has anyone looked past a smile?"

There was silence, then a small puff of wind that sounded like a sigh. He carried on. "So, dad, I know you're trying to teach me to believe but it isn't going to work. I've been abandoned before, remember? What the hell kind of difference is a third going to make."

The trees groaned and a soft voice whispered in his ear, _"I just wanted you to be happy, my son."_

"Yeah, well, this is as happy as I'm going to get. I'm good at hiding, so no one else will never know. But knowing Raphael, he probably kidnapped Cas just so he could get me trapped up in this tangle of realms. Nice birthday wish. Cas is locked up in the White Room, isn't he?"

No response.

"Yeah. I kinda thought so."

In the span of a breath, he was back in his own dimension and staring at the shocked an worried faces of his brothers. Lucifer looked almost ashamed. "Gabriel, I'm-"

"Don't."

Gabriel silently opened the door to see Castiel's blue eyes staring at him. He hugged him, murmured a soft 'glad you're back' and disappeared upstairs.

**Okay. Not how I thought it would go, but cheers to me for the word count. You didn't actually think Gabriel would let this go, did you? Abandonment goes a lot deeper than that, but we all know Gabriel is a good actor so the others are beating themselves over not noticing. Any questions, ask and I'll get to you on that. Bye! **


	27. Baby Steps

**Okay, so this will continue in the next chapter. Possibly two, depending on the feedback I get. Cheers for big brother Lucifer!**

**Disclaimer: No. I don't own this, nor do I own a car, a house or a college degree.**

Chapter 27: Baby Steps

Gabriel sat quietly on the dock, childishly swinging his feet in the open air. Fish stared up at him with their beady eyes, wondering in their unintelligible language what and who he was. He picked up a rock and scattered them with it's ripples, scowling into the shallow reflection of his own golden image. He couldn't stand to look at himself right now. Glancing at the Golden Gates of his home, he sighed and shook his head at the poorly hidden head of black hair standing out like a sore thumb in a bush of roses. Only Lucifer would even be _allowed_ to safely hide in a thorn bush. Raising an eyebrow and looking out over the water again, he called out, "I know you're there, Luce. I'm not thinking about suicide so call off the watchmen. It's getting really annoying." Silence. He snorted and with a jerk of his grace, grounded three covertly flying Seraphim. "And now?"

Lucifer sighed softly and came gracefully towards him, dropping into the lotus position on the other side of the dock. He eyed Gabriel with concern and murmured, "Michael put you on suicide watch and Raphael is sorry, but he didn't really look it." He snorted. "Fucking hypocrites."

"Pot and kettle, dear brother. And while you're at it, that house is made of glass so don't throw any stones.' Gabriel smirked joylessly. "Besides, we're all pretty fucked up, what with the abandonment issues, the codependency issues and Father only knows the level of anger issues walking around."

"Don't forget the mental health issues."

Gabriel laughed. "I was getting there." He fell silent after that and just watched the stars twinkling brightly above Heaven. Lucifer's own gaze was drawn to what the humans called the North Star as he waited patiently for his baby brother to end the pause. It didn't take too long. "Hey, Luci?" He nodded at him to go on. "Okay, so I know I sound like a brat and I should be grateful that you're here and everything, but it just doesn't feel real. Everything around me is always falling apart, leaving me in the dust. I've gotten used to it, but it doesn't mean I like it. After you Fell, for example." His voice took on a childish whisper. "I got used to being loved and then it was gone. Everything changed, including me." Turning to Lucifer now he stated, "I'm never going to be the Gabriel you remember."

Lucifer nodded slowly. "As long as there is a Gabriel for me to remember, then that will be all I can possibly ask for." He smirked wryly. "After all, who else would help me prank Raphael? Certainly not Balthazar." Ah, the Tart Incident. Taking a moment to appreciate that special occasion, Gabriel wondered how the holy hell Lucifer knew about the horrible accident then decided against asking. He was probably better off not knowing.

Lucifer kept talking nonsense, most of it about how it was only partially his fault that Gabriel was screwed up and how he blamed Michael for at least a decent half of it. The darkness in his eyes was deepening. Gabriel was quick to pull his self incriminating brother into a massive hug, joined shortly thereafter by the few buck naked cherubs that his brother had brought with him. Wincing at the dick directly in his line of vision, he promptly pulled both himself and Lucifer to safety by way of water. Sputtering up moments later a good twenty feet away, the former devil sighed and glubbed, "I probably should have thought out their involvement just a little bit more."Gabriel just came up laughing, though ever so slightly scarred for the rest of his immortal life. The sound wasn't as strained as it was before but nowhere near the carelessness of their youth. Which, considering how long their childhoods lasted and how he used to be certain that Gabriel's would never end, was an exceedingly long time ago. Truthfully, he missed the Gabriel that didn't know any personal boundaries and would happily snuggle any time and any where with any one. That time with Death was just…_wow. _Lucifer's eye twitched at the memory.

Seeing his brother swimming subtly away, he sighed and grabbed him by the hair before towing him to shore in a chorus of, "Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow", and, "Lucifer, I swear to God, if you don't stop pulling my hair!" Once he'd towed his brother to land he didn't bother letting go. Instead, he forced his brother to sit calmly on the ground so he could braid the mess of golden curls. He had never really grown out of the fledgling hair; the indomitable mix of curls, waves and ringlets still inhabited his brother's empty head.

Gently, he took a large chunk of hair and started to plait it. "I remember when I found you as a fledgling. Your hair was more dirt than blonde, while your wings trailed on the ground behind you when you walked. You were quite pitiful looking. That was why I even bothered to pick you up and take you with me." He was lying, of course. Gabriel knew he was lying and gave a snarky half grin while silently enjoying the attention. "You were such a quiet fledgling, you know? Didn't speak a word the entire time we were flying. Suddenly, you were up on Father's lap chattering away like a chipmunk and I was getting ready to scoop pieces of you off the floor. But I didn't."

A soft smile settled on the Morningstar's lips when he added, "The look on Michael's face was enough for me to keep you around, even if you weren't an Archangel. He's gotten that particular look many times since. I think he's missed it, actually."

Gabriel finally threw back his head and gave a booming belly laugh that still had a saddening taint of bitterness. "If he missed me, why didn't he look?"

Lucifer didn't have an answer for that. He just finished off one braid and started on another. Gabriel leaned against him a little more and he moved to support his brother's weight. He finally said after a few minutes, "We did many things wrong with you. We also did many things right and that has made you who you are. While you may not always like what we and you, yourself, has become, there is little we can do to change it." He breathed a sigh. "Many times, I have wished that we could have given you a proper childhood just to see the innocence that you managed to maintain with Castiel." Although that had been corrupted by Michael's Apocalypse Plan.

Gabriel hummed softly and murmured, "Nah. I'm okay with my life and _it's not like I'm suicidal, MICHAEL!_ But yeah, that would have been nice," He finished with a grin after the sudden outburst in the middle. Lucifer just shook his head in exasperation and gave him a soft cuff around the head. Finished stalling, he quickly wrapped up on his plaiting and pinned his brother's hair in place. Somehow his long, curled bangs still managed to fall into place in front of his face but that was a mystery for another day. The sun was rising in Sioux Falls and he had to get back to the Winchester brothers.

Giving him a quick kiss on the forehead, at which Gabriel made a face and the exaggerated motion of wiping it away, he stepped back and watched his brother fly to Earth. _There is a metaphor in there somewhere, _he mused to himself.

**Vote in the poll. It's tied, Goddamnit! I might end up killing them both.**

Gabriel put his legs up on the stained coffee table and studiously ignored the killer look he was getting from Bobby. Eyeing the idjits doubtfully, he turned to the old man and drawled, "So, let me guess. They've been up all night drinking coffee and researching another mythical happening somewhere in the good ol' US of A. Therefore, they have probably not stopped to eat, drink, sleep or piss. Somewhere along the line, you probably hit one of them in the head with a book in the hopes to knock them unconscious and spiked Sam's coffee with a sleeping pill. He then switched them when you weren't looking at that is why you look like you have the hangover from hell."

Bobby grunted an affirmative as he gave up glaring and settled on the couch beside him. Gabriel snickered, "Sounds like a Tuesday."

Buffy references aside, he had been feeling a bit off all day. He figured it was his Winchester radar going off and promptly ignored it. He was already here; what was the worst that could possibly happen? Images of the ice roses and Lola cascaded through his mind. Twitching a bit, he looked away and walked over to see what Sam was working on. Frowning at it, he went and checked what Dean was working on. Slamming his head against the table as Bobby sympathetically patted his shoulder, he moaned out, "They're both working on different cases. Why are they both working on different cases? Can I stay home with you?"

He and Bobby had come to a truce after the whole Sam is soulless predicament and were now a step further away from killing each other than they had been before. It was a small step, since Gabriel was certain that the flask attached to Bobby's side was filled with Holy Oil, but a step none the less. Besides, it wasn't as if he couldn't just reach into the puny human's body and rip out his soul. Feeling better for knowing that, he promptly went up to the boys, picked up Sam's 20 page research printouts and poofed them into the car. "Looks like we're going to NYC, boys! Get your monster gear ready because this city is a Big One." Emphasis on the capital letters.

As for the back story of that emphasis, New York is located on a weak spot between the veil and the mortal plain. It was the place most demons escaped from when they broke the bonds that chained them to Hell, since it took less power to break through ice than it does steel. It was sort of like Buffy, except the hunters in question did not have amazing strength, speed, reflexes or boobs. Or hell, friends! Other hunters didn't count since they would kill each other at a moments notice at the first sign of demonic possession. Normal humans didn't count, either, because they usually…well, they usually died. The next thought made him freeze. _Oh, dear God. I'm one of their only friends…_

The signs were all there. They tolerated each other's presence, helped with weird shit that no one else would touch with a ten foot pole, he had _literally _helped them bury bodies and get away with murder. They had shed each other's blood and ended up in one piece, Dean trusted him with Sam, they have sleepovers at each other's houses and have brothers who are friends, too. Eye twitching miserably, he slumped slightly in the backseat of the Impala then let out a silent moan. He even knew all of Dean's embarrassing pet names for the thrice-damned car! They were friends! He didn't want _friends_!

The rest of the ride to the Big Apple was surprisingly quiet, filled only with Metallica's apt 'Highway To Hell' playing over the radio. He was pretty sure he nearly had an aneurism when 'I've Got Friends In Low Places' came on right after it. Ignoring Dean's swatting and grouching, he reached forward and flipped to a different station before making certain that neither of them could change the channel. It was country, which he had grown to appreciate over the years despite all of the Chevy's mentioned in conjunction with beer and women. Or, maybe because of it. All he knew was that it pissed Michael off and it got pretty catchy.

As a happy coincidence, it annoyed Dean too. Sam was actually humming along and bobbing his head in time with the music while Gabriel intentionally sang horrendously off key. His brothers _had _been waiting to hear him sing. _(Somewhere in Heaven, Lucifer was peacefully doing paperwork while wearing noise cancelling headphones, pausing every once in a while to watch Michael falter in his sparring and Raphael accidentally rip the wings off of a cherub after a particularly high note done in a truly hideous falsetto. After ten minutes of this, in which there was no end in sight, he sighed and simply switched the radio station back to the rock channel that Dean preferred. Gabriel complained, but then again, what else was new?)_

Pouting up at the clouds, he muttered rebelliously and crossed his arms over his chest while sinking down in his seat. Dean looked as though he was on the verge of praying and Sam was, well, Sam. He looked a little confused at the angelic intervention of the radio but then again, what kind of angel took the time to change the radio station? Gabriel pouted harder and contemplated going to Fiji.

The drive was full of puppy dog eyes, useless pouting, countless cuss words and many silent eye rolls on Sam's part. Oh, and a couple of pee breaks. And a near lawsuit, because of Gabriel's chronic inability to pay for things that he wants and there was an adorable little puppy sitting _right there._ Not to mention the little girl holding it, wearing a shirt with little angel wings on them. "A Christian!" he had cooed. Her hair had tinted gold in the sun and was, evidently, close to Gabriel's own hair color. It took a highly destructive distraction from Balthazar to fend the furious mother-with-a-handbag off of them. And a bribe.

"She was Jewish, you idiot!"

After that, they got to NYC in relatively good shape, although the grief Gabriel got for denting the hood of Dean's Baby lasted long after the boys got their customary shitty motel room. And unlike the last one, they left something not even close to chocolate on the pillows. "Dude, is that a dead rat?"

Needless to say that they got a new hotel after that. One that Gabriel chose and promptly forbid the boys from leaving until they got better taste in sleeping places. Not that he's one to talk; during the battle with the Leviathans, the Archangel's had found refuge inside one of the bodies of their enemies. It had been dark, damp, smelly and above all, formerly alive. Good times, they were _not. _Those had been called the dark years, because of how the Leviathan had almost swallowed the sun. It had taken thirty tries to win the war, each failed attempt announced by the blare of his trumpet as the earth shook and broke apart. Thus, asteroids were created.

Apart from that, the boys were reading up on their hunt and honestly, not even Gabriel had any ideas of what the fresh hell was going on. The murders were all over the place, from a nun to a tried and true rapist/serial killer. There were no time intervals, since whatever was doing this killed sometimes up to three times a day then left off for like, a week. There was nothing missing from the bodies. It looked as though there wasn't even a mark on them, unless you got them into autopsy and realized that their brains had literally exploded inside their skulls. He'd usually associate this with the presence of an angel, but it was done with no blood drawn whatsoever.

Fuck, he was lost.

"Okay, so we have twenty victims between the ages of 12 an 82 that have no known relation. None of them have recently met, so there goes the hopes of this being a serial killer." And really, in what world would that be considered a good thing? "The oldest is a Sister Alice Martin, who was apparently sent to America from Rome to witness the confession of some guy on death row." Sam turned to them and stated, "He was given lethal injection somewhere in Texas twelve hours later. She was supposed to return home in a couple of hours. The youngest victim is Thomas Gaylor. Neighbors said that they heard a commotion and when they went to investigate, the kid was dead on the floor with the biggest smile on his face that they had ever seen. Turned out to be one of the worst child abuse cases on record. Nothing was done about it because the father is Special Forces in the military and they thought that the screams were from the wife arguing with him. Oh, and the parents aren't talking. All they kept saying was what a beautiful place it was."

O-kay then. That made no sense, especially since they were in the crappy part of New York. The one with the hoboes, trashcan fires and the Lycanthrope pack in the warehouse across the street. They shouldn't cause trouble; they were smarter than the average hamster and knew when to duck and cover. They weren't werewolves, because they could full on turn into a wolf instead of the fang-toothed morons that went for a piece of juicy long-pig. They had full thought and didn't have to turn at the full moon.

Shaking his head and immediately crossing their neighbors off of his list, Gabriel listened to the brothers banter back and forth while he leaned his head against a wall and wondered what this reminded him of. On the bedside table, the Sarah Mclachlan song 'I Will Remember You' came on. Face-palming, he muttered, "Obviously not. God, it's on the tip of my tongue too!"

That night brought with it several thoughts. Some were about Lucifer and the conversation they had before he left while others were about a conversation millions of years ago, with hissed words and barely sheathed swords. Others were about blood, running like a river all across the earth that had stained the soil red for centuries. Screaming, deep and melodious as they were torn apart. Closing his eyes, he breathed through his mouth as the black ectoplasm of the Leviathans filled his mind to the brim, bringing shaky prayers for absolution and gurgling whimpers for mercy before being abruptly cut off. Curling himself into a ball with his bare feet held in his hands, he whispered pleadingly, "Let me fall asleep, for once. Just once."

Of course, his own head betrayed him and filled his head with guilt. All of the things that he had ever blamed himself for, from now until back when he had been just a fledgling four feet tall. Pressure built in his head and his heart, making him breathe out a breathy whine. The air crystallized around him, and startled, he whipped his head around only to be faced with absolute darkness. A small smile formed on his face as a hand caressed his cheek.

And then he fell.

**Vote in the poll, or I swear I will put this story on HIATUS until the prequel is finished. And that sucker is going to be MASSIVE.**

Sam snorted in his sleep, then crinkled his nose and shifted at the cold in the room. He couldn't find a warm spot. Sighing and opening his eyes blearily, he stared at the clock that pronounced it three o'clock in the morning. Sam was pretty sure that he had been sweating before he went to bed, so unless the heat had let up then something was strange about this hotel. Trust Gabriel to bring them to a haunted hotel… Letting out a puff of air that immediately became visible, he reached under his pillow and got up. Expertly cocking the gun and flicking off the safety, he immediately spotted a disturbance in the pitch dark of the room. Squinting, his eyes then widened and he fumbled to put the gun away before stumbling blindly to the figure of a toddler curled up in the corner of the room.

The darkness receded slightly, but Sam didn't notice. Busily checking the child's vitals, he noticed that he had no clue on if the kid was a girl or not. Opening the curtains and ignoring Dean's change in breathing patterns, he fell to his knees beside the kid and gently tilted it's head up before groaning. The face was perfectly androgynous. It's hair was an odd shade of gold and everywhere at once, accompanied by a set of long blonde eyelashes. He couldn't tell the eye color, since the toddler was seemingly unconscious, but he imagined them to be a clear and crystalline blue. Dean got up behind him and grunted out a husky, "Holy shit."

Sam would have liked to agree, but the toddler was waking up and suddenly, he forgot about finding what gender it was, it's name, it's home and it's family. Because blinking up at him shyly from the hotel floor was a baby angel, yawning and fisting at it's golden eyes while cream and gold wings fluttered behind him. The golden orbs moved to pierce him straight through to his soul as the baby inspected him silently. And if that wasn't serious enough, Sam was pretty sure Dean still had a gun trained on the little person. Lifting a hand to shove it down, he was interrupted by the imperiously lifted arms and wide-eyed pleading of one of the most adorable children he had ever seen.

He crumbled like the walls of Jericho.

Scooping him up, he immediately had an attention starved angel fledgling attempting to bury itself into the warmth of Sam's old t-shirt. Soft cooing brought to his attention the practically blue little toes that were scrambling at his stomach trying to get warm. Sighing and questioning his choice in lifestyle, he went back to bed and wrapped the fledgling in his blankets. Minutes later, there was a fuzzy little chicken wing in his face as it tried to take flight. The disappointed wails were pretty damned heartbreaking. Dean must have thought so, too, because without even glancing at Sam, he picked it up under the armpits and started to toss it up and down and playing airplane. Lips twitching, Sam looked back at the clock and wondered how long it would take for the angel brigade to show up.

They all fell asleep, still waiting.

**Seriously. Poll. Now.**

The quiet sniffling of a baby was what woke Sam up hours later. Bolting upright, he barely had enough time to catch the baby angel before he was dumped to the floor. Cradling it awkwardly in his arms in an attempt to avert the disaster of tears, he silently prayed for holy intervention in the form of Castiel…who did not want to show up. Come to think of it, Gabriel was gone, too. Maybe there was a pandemic in Heaven or something. Pinching at the bridge of his nose in hopes of quick headache relief, he promptly began searching for a Tylenol or two in the mess of Dean's bag. Coming up victoriously with half a bottle of the pain reliever, he swallowed a couple dry and deftly avoided the grabby hands of the curious fledgling.

Setting it down on the bed again, he eyed the baby curiously. They didn't look anything like the little cherubs in stained glass windows or from the old masters' paintings, but then again, mythology rarely did get anything right. Reaching carefully for the baby's wings, he stroked gently down one of the ridges and was astonished to realize that there was, indeed, something softer than Gabriel's wings had been. The fluffy down felt practically nonexistent on his fingers but the happy cooing and purring of the angel child was pretty damned substantial. It wriggled happily and suddenly, Sam felt just a little dirty. Shuddering slightly, he withdrew his hand quickly.

Dean popped his head out of the bathroom and called out, "I got Cass on the phone about half an hour ago, sleeping beauty. He said that Gabriel was missing then hung up."

Sam frowned pensively at the fledgling staring up at him with imperviously shielded eyes. "Call him again and tell him that we have a-you know what, just toss me the phone."

It rung continuously for the first four times he called. By the time Castiel answered the phone, there was a certain ruffled note in his voice as he said in his monotone voice, "Sam, I can-"

"Yes, Cass, you can. Look, I'm sitting here in a Super 8 hotel in the middle of New York holding a baby angel on my lap who I'm pretty sure shouldn't be anywhere near here. So if you could just come and pick it up, that would be awesome."

Silence, for a good minute or two, then, "A fledgling? You have a fledgling in your possession?"

"Yeah, Cass, we-"

With a feathery rustle, Castiel appeared and crouched down in front of the fledgling. He murmured to it in what sounded like Enochian, which elicited less than a fart from it. Brows furrowing, he traced a finger down it's forehead then widened his eyes. Standing up straight, he intoned quickly, "Keep him safe. I am bringing Lucifer here."

Sam stared at him incredulously. "What?! Why are you bringing the devil to pick up a fledgling? Shouldn't he just cling to you?"

Castiel shook his head instantly. "He does not even understand me, because at the time of his creation, they spoke a much older version of the Enochian angels speak now." He stared seriously into Sam's eyes. "The fledgling you are holding is the Archangel Gabriel."

Dean, now standing beside the bed, kind of stared at him for a while before dropping his head into his hands and muttering, "_Shit_."

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Heaven was in an uproar. Early in the morning, Gabriel's Grace had been lost completely. Michael was roaring orders at the Legion to organize themselves into effective search parties and Raphael was making a triage unit with his healers. And Lucifer? Lucifer was beyond freaking out. Yes, he had killed his brother by accident, but he was the only fledgling that he had raised himself. He was currently scrunched up with the head of one of Gabriel's hounds in his lap and searching frantically for any trace of his brother's telltale Grace. The Hound was whimpering and scrambling at the soil beneath his feet, practically begging him to find their Huntsman. He was failing.

Getting to his feet, he went over to Michael and muttered in a low growl, "This isn't working! If he was hiding himself, there would still be pieces of his Grace floating around but there aren't even remnants of power. It's as if he had never existed in the first place."

Michael sighed and muttered back, "I know, Lucifer. But there aren't many beings powerful enough to do that to an Archangel and Death and God are two of the only ones who haven't been Sleeping for the past few millennia. We must be careful about where we trespass, brother." Breaking his mood for a moment, he embraced Lucifer briefly and murmured reassuringly in his ear, "We will find him, come Hell or high water."

Snickering half-heartedly, he breathed, "I can't believe you just said that!"

Michael smiled worriedly at his brother. It may look like he was taking the disappearance of his baby brother well, but everyone knew better. He was pretty sure there were a few cherubs just dying to give him a hug and trill that stupid cartoon line that Gabriel had taught them. 'I will hug him, and squeeze him, and call him George.' Lucifer would just love that. Really, he would. He would love them straight to their deaths and happily continue on a murderous rampage until Gabriel tweaked his wings and called him Luci. And really, the nicknames only started because of how hideously he managed to pronounce their names. He shuddered. Mik, Raf and Luci. He just called Father 'da'. Come to think of it, maybe they had spoiled him. Especially with all of the extra hugs.

_There was that time I went into battle with him cradled in my wing, though,_ he mused. Lucifer whipped around and hissed in outrage, "You did _what!?_"

Michael smiled awkwardly and cursed the hive mind of the Archangels.

Several hours later, Lucifer was silent. They hadn't found anything at all in all of the time that they had been looking and his little brother had simply left after the last check in. Wandering around, he spied Lucifer sitting on the dock and trailing his fingers in the water. There were tears of shimmering violet trailing from his eyes and Michael was just as protective of his little brothers as he was of his baby brother. Sitting down, he pulled Lucifer closer so that he could rest his head against his shoulder. A few minutes later, there were tearstains on his robes and a head of long dark hair trailing down past his stomach. Michael silently fused over him and Raphael showed up quietly, bringing a blanket and draping it across Lucifer's back before taking up his other side with muted dignity.

They stayed like that for a while and combined their searches, looking for the bright golden sun that they knew as Gabriel. A massive outcry in the meeting place was what ended it. Leaping to his feet, Lucifer flew to meet the young angel Castiel, who was wide-eyed in shock. As they reached him, he said quietly, "Sam and Dean have acquired a fledgling angel during the night." Raphael wrapped a hand around Lucifer's wrist to prevent him from reaching for his sword. Castiel added a tad bit quicker, "He has golden eyes."

Violet ringed eyes widened disbelievingly. "You mean to tell me that something has turned our baby brother back into a baby? Do you have proof?"

"He does not understand me when I speak new Enochian, but tried to tickle me using his Grace."

Lucifer was gone before the last syllable fell from his lips.

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Sam looked disparagingly down at the fledgling who was now sucking his thumb. Not it's _own _thumb, no, but _his_. The eyes stared up at him smugly, as if to say 'I am adorable and therefore, am above all fault.' Dean seemed to agree, judging from the fact that every time the thing cried he started playing airplane with it. And was he ever getting tired of calling it an it! There were no distinguishing features and he was _not _violating one of Castiel's little- or, well, older brothers. He squinted and wondered why he couldn't see it before. Gabriel. The Archangel Baby Gabriel.

And then, suddenly, it didn't matter because the Archangel Baby Gabriel was literally out of his hands. Lucifer was sitting beside him on the bed, which was creepy enough as it is. He was also cooing to his brother like a mother bird and scooping him up into the air. The toddler giggled and squealed happily before gently bonking his caretaker on the cheek. It turned into a gentle pat as the little hand started to explore the larger features. Soon, he was squirming and crying without warning. Lucifer just smiled joyfully and cuddled him closer. That was strange just to think about and Sam decided that he was going insane.

Then Dean came out and got this strange look on his face, like someone had bashed him in the head with a shovel. He should know; it had happened enough times in their Hunting careers. Gabriel turned to face him, covered his eyes with his hands and when he uncovered them, sang, "Peek-a-boo!"

It was honestly the most beautiful thing that he had ever heard. It was a clear, ringing sound that somehow managed to rise and fall in a perfect harmony instead of the usual discordant screams that human children made. Dean glanced at him meaningfully and he had to remind himself for the first time that it had been his brother who raised him. Not John, but his brother who was only four years older than him and sometimes acted younger. Glancing at Dean, he smiled thankfully, to which he was promptly given the bird and given a mouthed 'bitch'.

'Jerk.'

Lucifer interrupted their girly bonding moment by singing. Yes, the devil himself was cradling a fledgling in his arms and singing it an unintelligible lullaby. It was actually an extremely cute picture. Soon, Sam and Dean were cuddled like puppies on the bed while Gabriel was tucked safely into one of Lucifer's six gleaming wings. Twisting his lips in thought, he took a quick picture for blackmail before drawing the blankets over them. He would deny it until their dying days, and even then he'd probably still see them in Heaven, so maybe until his days were over as well. Sighing at the Gabriel-like ramble in his head, he took flight with his two other pairs of wings and took his brother home.

He was then met by Ariella,**(who hasn't shown up for many chapters,) **who promptly stole their brother from his wing and started fussing over him before managing to put him in an adorable little blue onesie. He gurgled unhappily at the change until she started lavishing him with pure affection. Unsurprisingly, he was perfectly okay with that. He started making happy coos and babbled joyfully up at her. Gracing Lucifer with a look, she stated, "I'm taking him to see the garrison. They were all worried about him but now, they just really want to see him as a baby. And they're right, he is the most adorable thing of life!"

Lucifer, disgruntled, followed his little sister to the training grounds where Gabriel was now completely surrounded. Aziraphael was holding him with surprising expertise, rocking him from side to side. Gabriel was starting to get fussy, though, so Lucifer quickly thanked Gabriel's bunch of idiots and tucked him back into his wing so he could sleep. He felt the tiny body curl up in the formerly well-groomed feathers and was finally at peace. At least until he made it to the Pantheon, where he was beset upon by numerous healers accompanied by Michael and Raphael, who were all very overeager to see their baby brother, though in the case of the healers, it was more about undoing the spell. Lucifer tried to shush them, but was interrupted by the quiet cries of his fledgling.

He leveled a glare at them all and stormed to their old nest on top on the Pantheon. Michael and Raphael followed at a careful distance in case he decided to throw something. Lucifer retrieved Gabriel from his wing and tucked into a cloud. He made a whining sound that compelled them to snuggle in around him in a way that Balthazar would surely use as blackmail, if he weren't currently hovering around and eagerly awaiting the chance to give Baby Gabriel chocolate.

Raphael declared him a bad influence and shoved him off of the roof.

Shrugging at the accusing stares, he simply stated "Chocolate" and all was well in Heaven.

Not so much on Earth, though. Demons had picked up the scent of tender angel flesh and were currently trying to get through Sam and Dean in order to get to it. Not like the angels responsible for the mess were going to take responsibility for their actions, oh, no. They were currently snuggled together floating on a gentle cloud looking like adorable little puppies. Meanwhile, Dean was bleeding from a gash on his arm and Sam was mildly concussed and nearly shot his brother. After that, he stuck with the knife. Sticking Ruby's demon killing knife into a female demon's throat, he grimaced at the feeling of blood gushing over his hands.

Which were suddenly full of a feathered bundle of joy.

Yelping and trying to keep the frenzied demons back with one arm while shielding the baby with the other, he hissed in his ear, "This is _not _a good time, Gabriel." His answer was a wet kiss on the cheek and another cuddle. "_Seriously, _Gabriel! Go back to Lucifer." He definitely would have preferred the old response to the new one.

The baby archangel threw back his head and wailed in crystal clear tones. Momentarily frozen, Sam stared down at him in horror and tried bouncing him up and down awkwardly in attempts to mimic Dean and Lucifer. Gabriel _screamed._ The hotel shook straight down to it's roots and every fixture, glass or otherwise, shattered straight into nonexistence. Birds fell dead from the sky and miles away, coyotes were howling their response. They…weren't the first to make it to the scene, though. Sam would honestly have preferred to have been eaten by wild coyotes than by what showed up next.

Led by a shining sleek silver she-wolf, there was a massive pack of over thirty pure white hounds, each taller than Sam and wider than Dean. They were all snarling, too. At _him. _Oh, they were tearing apart the demons like a well honed knife through butter, yes, but there was also the pack Queen that was watching his every move with the baby. The fight didn't last long and soon, he and Dean were surrounded on all sides by the strange hounds. To make matters worse, Crowley decided to make an appearance. "Well, boys, I have no idea what you did but those idiots that just attacked you are down for the co- bloody hell!" he quickly found himself the victim of a squirming little fledgling's whims, leg currently being cuddled in a stranglehold.

Sam's jaw dropped when instead of prying him away, Crowley picked him up swiftly and eyed him with narrowed eyes. They widened when they met gold. Sighing, he held the babe closer and muttered, "Gabriel always was a little too snuggly for his own good. Looks like I'm going to see Azi, aren't I." It wasn't a question, but the fledgling trilled excitedly anyways. The demon sighed. "Well, boys, I've gotta go. Family reunion, and all that." Then he just poofed away.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Suddenly, the baby Gabriel was in Dean's arms and he gave the older hunter a sloppy kiss on the curve of his neck. Stunned, neither reacted when a cursing Crowley spat bloody murder at Gabriel but held him carefully, as if he were made of fragile porcelain. The Hounds didn't react to the King of the Crossroads holding their boy king in the slightest, although one gave him an unimpressed once-over. Sam opened and shut his mouth for a moment at the indignity of it but gave up seconds later. While Crowley waited impatiently for the Hounds to let him go, a demon crawled up behind them.

It happened so fast, it was almost impossible to see.

Plunging a knife into Crowley's back with a snarl on her lips, the she-demon made a grab for Gabriel only to be met with glowing red eyes and a furious screech as the innocent enough looking fledgling made to claw an eye out. Dean actually looked like he had just pissed himself and Sam was still mid-blink when the attack happened, so all he got was the aftermath. There was a screaming demon on the floor of their hotel room missing an eye, an arm and soon to be her throat once the baby angel on her back managed to sink his nails into it. The hounds joined in the ripping and shredding and, for them, eating of the screaming carcass. For whatever reason, either stupidity on the demon's part or genius on Gabriel's, the demon didn't evacuate in a cloud of black smoke but stayed and died in it's host.

And this was how Lucifer and Castiel found them minutes later.

Gabriel was sitting up innocently in a pool of blood that managed to soak him right through his robes, Hounds curled inwards and panting happily at the feast of demon flesh that they had just consumed. Castiel was stunned beyond movement but Lucifer just snatched him up and smirked in pride. The fledgling chirped happily and attempted to burrow into Lucifer's robes. Chuckling, the devil said the magic word. "Bath time, _emei luo. _You have certainly made a mess, this time. Amyntora misses bathing tiny fledglings. I think she would appreciate the chance."

A chirp from behind him made Sam whirl around, then stare in awe. A gigantic cat with the fur patterns of a cercal and the size of a horse purred happily and kneaded it's claws straight through the floor as it butted it's head against his chest. The bloody fledgling squealed and threw his arms wide, shrieking, "Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!"

The 'kitty' purred loud enough to register on the Richter scale and stalked eagerly towards her master and his kit. Taking him gently in her jaws, she trapped him between two massive paws and started to clean off the filth. Gabriel snuggled into her chest and attempted to purr back. Castiel was, by that time, moderately aware and staring at the cat in awe. She truly was beautiful, in a way that swords were sleek and shiny or a red convertible is gorgeous just before it ran you over. Deadly but in a way you can admire. She stared up at him as she cleaned the fledgling and as soon as he was cleaned to her specifications, she swiped Castiel's feet from under him and started to clean him too. Dean was on the floor on the other side of the bed convulsing in laughter while Sam just looked uncertain.

Gabriel giggled and snuggled himself into Castiel's lap. He automatically started to finger comb the tiny pair of wings laid in front of him, which drew a contented coo. Lucifer was calmly leaning against a wall while watching the proceedings with a smirk on his face. Castiel just stayed still and calmly allowed the rough tongue to scratch against both his skin and his Grace. After she was finished with him, he silently smirked because he knew exactly where she was going next. A cattish screech escaped her throat and she leaned over the now wriggling Dean to give him the same treatment. She also eyed Sam, but apparently decided his current bathing cycle was to her liking as she dipped her head to continue working on Dean.

He now realized just why Lucifer's wings were so damned immaculate.

The Hounds seemed to defer to her as well. They were content to watch the cat mutilate their master's hair and give it a thousand cowlicks and even presented themselves for grooming, once she was done with Dean. Staring with questioning eyes at Lucifer, he stated, "These Hounds were birthed specifically for Gabriel. The wolf you see is Lupa, their mother. She was the first wolf ever created but she is still thousands of years younger than my Amyntora. They all know she could rip them to shreds and they have never tried more than once to go after my cats." Lucifer smirked. "Raphael's parrots, on the other hand, are grounds for teamwork between the two. They are massive, ill-tempered things with claws the length of my fingers. They also like to pluck Gabriel's hair for their nests."

The hounds grumbled at that and Amyntora's eyes narrowed dangerously at the mention of hair plucking. As if to prove them right, a monstrous parrot swooped down at an incredible speed and snatched at the golden strands that were very much attached to the fledgling's head. Before anyone could do anything, however, the powerful kick of a horse sent the squawking bird flying back to Heaven like a drunken pirate. Lucifer laughed in surprise when Michael appeared beside it and held on loosely to the magnificent creature's mane.

It was a gorgeous Appaloosa stallion with patches of cream, gold, brown and red in many different shades. There was a perfectly shaped eight pointed star embellishing it's forehead, which dipped to nudge Gabriel over onto his butt. He snorted powerfully and moved to stand to a full nine feet or so. Sam had gone horseback rising with Jess once, and he had fun watching her prance delicately on the little horse that she had been riding. He had been riding an old gelding. However, if this had been the horse that greeted him on that trip he would never have so much as looked at another horse. _Ever. _This one was downright terrifying, because it's eyes were pure blue and _Oh, God, was it staring right at him?!_

Right now, he was just thankful Raphael didn't show up and bring his favorite parrot.

Dean was, surprisingly, nonplussed and when gawked at with a certain degree of awe, he just shrugged and stated, "I saw Sleipnir once. After that, freakishly tall horses do nothing or you." And with that, he moved forward and stroked down the silky nose with a light touch and was greeted with whinnies of delight and suddenly, he realized that the horse had the countenance of…Gabriel. Dean read his mind when he asked in a slightly disturbed tone after it had eaten at least a pound of sugar, "Does he remind anyone else of Gabriel?"

A chorus of resigned 'yes's filled the air. Michael supplied, "Gabriel spent a lot of time with the animals as a fledgling, because we were always training. They seem to have picked up several of his traits and Luminis got his sweet tooth. I suspect that he has been fed several pounds of absolute sugary crap over his lifetime and he has enjoyed every minute of it." The horse pranced like a pony and Michael sighed disparagingly. "You are a _warhorse, _not a show horse. Please, for the love of all that is holy, remember that." The Hounds stared accusingly at Michael as the horse's head lowered and he gave out a sad whuffle. The Archangel winced, then sighed and apologized in a soft undertone as he stroked the horse's neck. "I suppose that's alright, though, since I'm not going to war anytime soon."

"On the bright side," Michael continued, "We have made brief contact with God and he said that he may be able to turn Gabriel back. He also stated that this was not, under any circumstances, his fault, although he sounded…oddly gleeful. All we have to do is take him back to Eden and set him in the oasis."

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In short, it didn't work.

Under the watchful eyes of the animals, Michael, Lucifer and Raphael set their baby brother in the shallow waters of Eden's oasis then sat and waited for several moments. And then several hours. As the sun finally set in the sky just barely above them, Lucifer voiced sarcastically, "Well, gee, do you think he forgot?"

A wave of resignation washed over them and a voice whispered in a hushed tone, _I cannot undo this. The power of Death and a Titan are on this spell and as powerful as I am, Death is more than a match for my abilities. You must convince them to undo what they have done. _Pause. _He is quite adorable, though. And quiet._

"It is concerning." Lucifer stated, unmoved by their Father's attempts to 'turn them to the dark side'.

…_Very._

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Not too far away, on a surprisingly beautiful mountaintop, Death and Gaia raised their shot glasses of vodka in a toast to each other. Her smooth chestnut face wrinkled as she thought about the possible consequences for her actions, but promptly dismissed them. She liked to think of children as a gift and a childhood an even greater boon. Gabriel had protected her Pagan children, become one and loved one, and in return she gave him what God was too scared to give. The fact that Death had joined her in that endeavor made it all the more sweet. It would seem that he had a soft spot for a very particular angel. Convenient.

Death, on the other hand, was just in it for the entertainment.

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	28. Pitter-Patter of Baby Wings

**Hey, all! It's been about a month or two, so I'm back with another baby chapter! I'll make this quick.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own a television network, a mansion or Jensen Ackles. Or, you know, SPN.**

Chapter 28: Pitter-Patter of Baby Wings

It all started with a bucket of melted gummy bears.

Or at least that's what Balthazar said when asked about the entire thing, later on. He was questioned by a twitchy-eyed Raphael, so there was little to no probability of him lying. Gabriel had kind of just stared at him with bright golden eyes, slapped him then settled into Michael's wing for a nap, which ruined any chance of retribution.

It had all started innocently enough, with the semi-normal assault by parrot and the aftermath of said attack. He didn't really want to get into the amount of shit he got for it. Suffice to say, it was a lot and Lucifer's stare had not lessened in murderous intensity and was still quite frightening. That and the cat staring up at him hungrily from where it lay curled at his brother's feet. "For the last time, I told you the parrot was not my doing! I don't know why you are angry, brother. He has plenty to spare!"

Lucifer's eyes narrowed dangerously. The result was the ice cold of that gaze piercing him straight through to the core. Frozen in place, he was forced to meet the devil's angry face as he hissed, "He is mine, Raphael. I do not like it when people hurt what is mine." At a plaintive roar from the cat, he corrected, "Ours. Now, either give me the damned demonic parrot or find yourself as another sculpture in my ice garden!"

Gabriel snoozed on, oblivious to the harsh exchange of whispers that would soon turn to bodily harm and threats of evisceration. Michael was nowhere to be found during all of this and was, quite honestly, hiding from his little brothers. He never did have a way with words, and had the distinct feeling that if he intervened, he would need to hide in perdition with the repenting souls for a few decades. He vowed long ago not to argue with Lucifer; it always ended badly. Gabriel cooed at him suddenly from the crook of his arm and he promptly decided to abscond while he had the option.

Lucifer had, for reasons known only to him, grown fiercely protective of their baby brother and had claimed him as his alone. Even Ariella couldn't get her sly hands between him and Gabriel, which was saying something since she moonlighted with Hermes. Gabriel had apparently had enough and transported himself to Michael, leaving a fairly good copy of himself in his stead. Steeling his resolve, he took his brother to Eden for a cuddle with Joshua, AKA the only angel Lucifer was forbidden to murder painfully during his Reflections.

He was given a wry look and a sarcastic, "Thank you, commander. I'll be sure to dodge the flaming arrows when they come my way." He still took Gabriel, though. As soon as Michael left, he softened and murmured to Gabriel, "I always knew you and your brethren would get me killed one day," he mused. "I wonder what my memorial would say..."

Gabriel just squealed and waved his chubby little arms around. "T'sa!"

"Yes, very tragic indeed." Joshua looked towards the extremely locked entrance to the garden as it was pounded upon with all of the strength of a speeding Archangel. He muttered, "I am just thankful that Lucifer was always a string bean compared to the rest of you."

Gabriel blinked up at him, then disappeared.

Joshua just sighed and opened the gates to the Garden before they exploded. Lucifer, looking more ruffled than he had been since 'The Dinosaur Incident' in the BC's, skidded to a messy stop right in his gardenias. Staring at him blankly, he waited until the flowers were righted to report, "Michael dropped him off. He spent exactly three minutes with me before he got bored and went to someone else. If you kill me, I hope you know that I will come back and poison your cats."

Lucifer glowered at him. Joshua remained totally unimpressed. Lucifer's eyes started glowing. Joshua raised an eyebrow. It started to get suspiciously cold in the Garden. Joshua narrowed his eyes and told him, "If you kill my plants, they will never find your Grace," in the most pleasant voice he had. Lucifer started to twitch under the deadpan stare, carefully inching away. Joshua rolled his eyes and shoved him bodily out of the gate. Staring bemusedly after the retreating figure, he chuckled and murmured to himself, "I wonder when he'll realize that I can't actually do anything to him."

Meanwhile, Gabriel avoided the Grace poking at him and curled inwards towards Ariella's warmth. The lion licking at his wings was apparently a bonus. Cooing and waving his arms at her, he squeaked a few lines of utter nonsense as he told her the story of his day with only a few syllables and too many consonants. Laughing, she indulged him and jabbered back with a seriousness offset by her mocking tone. Gabriel loved it. He laughed and bounced in place, supplemental arm gestures getting more and more detailed as he went on. The sound effects were purely coincidental. And if she had managed to get him into a little pair of overalls, who was there to say? It was adorable.

Ariella's baby time was also shared by the Garrison. They were all huddled around in a celestial steel bomb shelter complete with sentries in case of Lucifer. Giggling, she manipulated him so that he was sitting in the centre of their ring and purred, "Okay, baby brother! Who's the funny one?" She had discovered that he understood old Enoch well enough, but couldn't speak it. She repeated it in the new version for the spring chickens in the group. "Who's funny, baby?"

Laughing in a surprising cackle, he went straight to Tariel and papped him on the cheek. "T'sa!" He cried, clapping his hands together ecstatically.

Tariel beamed at him in pride, which was promptly diminished by the angel who called out, in an oddly Australian accent, "Funny looking, you mean, Ari!"

She threw back her head and roared out a wild laugh. It took a second, but she managed to choke out, "Okay, baby! Who's cute?"

Almost shyly, he crept up to a petite angel named Queriel. Buttscooting the remaining inches, he stared up at her beseechingly and held out his arms with a quiet inquiry of, "G'e?"

Eyes shining joyfully, the admittedly plain young angel scooped him onto her lap and gave him a playful peck on the nose. She rustled her grey wings in an all out wriggle of glee as the others looked on indulgently. Aziraphael even managed to crack a smile! Ariella let it go on for a little while longer before calling out, "Who needs a hug?"

Getting tired now, Gabriel magicked himself over to Aziraphael, gave him a sleepy cuddle and a sloppy kiss on the cheek then promptly passed out halfway over his brother's shoulder. The others let out a moan of disappointment but stayed quiet as their leader was carefully changed into a camouflage sleeper and tucked lovingly into bed. Chuckling quietly, Aziraphael tucked the bundled fledgling into his wing and stated, "I suppose I should get him to Raphael for a while. Are you ready to fly decoy, Lioness?"

Ariella rubbed her hands together gleefully. Lucifer seemed to think that Gabriel would only let the Archangels hold him because he could understand what they were saying. He had forgotten one thing; Aziraphael and Gabriel were almost the same age. He knew old Enoch, too. And Gabriel just so happened to have a love of everything that could snuggle him, including most animals other than parrots and frogs. Bad experiences and all.

So, while Ariella took flight at an impossible speed only slightly faster than the blur coming in behind her, Aziraphael took off running. With a smooth gait and the stabilization of his free wing, he moved quickly and soundlessly through Heaven towards the meeting place he and Raphael had set up. Passing him off to the second youngest Archangel, he instructed, "Keep your parrots away from him and we won't have any problems. Also, avoid leaving Heaven, don't visit Earth, Lucifer, shiny things, sugar, tickling, truth or dare, flowers, tall grass, cats, water, fish, furry animals with violent tendencies and Balthazar."

"...Balthazar?"

"Sugar."

Enough said.

Taking the fledgling carefully and smirking at the snores emitted from tiny rose petal lips, he settled Gabriel against his chest under the warmth of his robes. Nodding to Aziraphael, he turned and strode nonchalantly away. Far away from where he stood, the origin of a frustrated scream was bristling in anger as cherubs held buckets that used to be filled with a dubious green substance. Which was now on him and, more importantly, his wings. "Ariella, you bitch!" He shrieked. "I'm going to kill you! Where. Is. Gabriel!"

Giggling at his suffering, the Lioness of Heaven was quick to soar out of her flightless brother's range. With that gunk mucking up his wings, it would take ages for him to manage to follow. The look on his face was thunderous, but slowly turned to despair the further away Ariella went. Attempting to flutter his wings, he whimpered almost childishly when the best he could do was shrug them. His eyes widened as he looked uncertainly back at the gates of Heaven, so very far away, and wondered absently if God had meant for him to come back.

He had defied the Father of All Creation and lived to tell about it, but in the process had become a symbol of everything evil in the world. He'd been trying to get their Father to realize that he had his perfect creations already at his side, so why bother creating those... Things? He had been jealous and because of that, had ruined everything for everyone, including himself. Now he was back and the little ones stared at him stonily, taunting him with their gazes and judging him silently without remorse. They viewed him as a warning of what they could become, if they became defiant.

As a result, he wasn't all that he could be. Where before there was love, awe and comradeship there was now frigid cold. The ones who had accepted him were all close to Gabriel, so he thought that if he kept his brother close, the others wouldn't hate him as much. It was a stupid reason to keep his baby brother as a permanent attachment, but even as the best negotiator of the four his words just dried up when he was faced with the blank faced glares of his little siblings.

Lips trembling a little, he turned around sharply on his heel and began to walk.

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Gaia watched in concern over her martini as the poor baby walked away, alone and once again doubting himself. Death had paused to watch their scrying pool dispassionately as his former 'master' fought back tears, not particularly feeling sympathetic to the brat. However, his partner was glancing at him pleadingly from the other side of the pool and he sighed. "Does he deserve it, or are you just feeling merciful today?"

"He does," she stated firmly. "All he ever wanted was to be loved by his father, to spend time with him like the others did. Instead, he gained possession of a world that would be destroyed by creatures that his father loved more than anything. He gained the hatred of his brother for a thing that could have been resolved with so much as a spoken word from God about how much he still loved his sons and daughters. But he stayed silent because he needed an angel on the throne of Hell. Whether that be one of the Legion or Michael himself, it didn't matter, because Lucifer was perfect. He had anger and influence and that was all he needed. He was alone in that cage for millions of years. Don't you think he deserves something good?"

Death was certain she had said the alone part on purpose. After all, what was a more lonesome thing than Death? He killed everything he touched and was feared by all but the angels. Sighing in contemplation, he thought about all of the things he could do to Lucifer in return for the treatment when he had been under the brat's thrall. Gaia gave him a look of warning and she was a powerful goddess in her own right. He could take her, but not without serious repercussions. Such as the earth blowing up completely. Grumbling irritably, he muttered, "Fine."

Smiling serenely at him, she laughed and went to intercept their next victim. As he mingled with the shadows, Death wondered savagely if the Demon King would like his gift.

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Lucifer was still a long way from Heaven when he saw it. A paradise; one that drew him in unlike any other thing he had seen. Slowly stalking towards it, his tears dried up as he stared at it in awe. A soft laugh made him glance curiously at the person who made it. She stood under a tree wearing a simple brown dress with hints on emerald green. Deep brown hair had several strands of gold and silver woven into it, with a few gemstones catching the light. He met her eyes and inhaled sharply. They were a strange mix of colours that could only mean one thing. "Titan," he breathed.

A dark chuckle came from behind him. By then, the spell of the paradise had worn off and he spun to face Death. Backing away carefully, he stopped abruptly against a body as hard as stone. She smiled at him and gathered his face in her hands. "Lucifer. Oh, look at your poor wings!" she fretted. "Don't worry, it will all come off soon." Death just snickered. Gaia gave him a catty snarl then ignored him. "Now come to Gaia, dear. I'll make it all better."

Lucifer was powerless to do anything but whimper as his life cycled before his eyes. Before he blacked out, he could hear Death's horrifying cackle as he breathed, "This is my vengeance, brat."

He was gone before he hit the ground.

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Ariella was starting to get worried. Raphael was walking around freely with Gabriel and nothing had happened yet. She was starting to wonder whether she had gone too far with the gummy bears and resolved to ask Balthazar what the hell else he had put in that concoction he had given to her. She sighed when she took flight and honed in on Lucifer's Grace, then froze. She tried again. Slamming on the breaks, she darted in a full u-turn and started shrieking for Michael to get his feathered ass over there.

He came holding a bawling fledgling and Raphael's collar with a harried look on his face. "He's been crying for the past ten minutes and I caught Raphael shaking him upside down looking for the off-switch." Raphael hadn't really been big on child rearing. He just waited until they were older; now they knew why. "Where's Lucifer? We aren't exactly safe out here and I have no wish to recreate the fall of Babylon's Tower."

Ariella fidgeted nervously and whispered, "I, uh. Kinda lost him. Slightly. I think he may be like Gabriel."

Michael paled. Raising a baby Lucifer the _first _time had been absolute hell and he definitely wasn't ready for a repeat. His little brothers were different in several ways from when they were just little bundles of fluffy feathers with fledgling hair. For example, Gabriel was a cheerful child and cried surprisingly quietly but was easy to calm down. Lucifer, to put it simply, wasn't. Michael had pulled his hair once, and then never again. The fledgling had screamed nonstop for hours until God took a physical form and cradled him to his chest. Even then, it took bribes of sweet honey to make him forgive Michael his trespasses. Stifling a moan, he handed a whimpering Gabriel to Ariella and began a military grid search for his brother.

It didn't take to long. After all, how many tiny black screaming specks can there be in the middle of Heaven's war zone? Balancing precariously on the edge of the Pit, a baby Lucifer screamed his nonexistent heart out at the lack of attention he was receiving. Michael was actually surprised that he hadn't heard that earlier, considering the shockwaves that were being given off. He landed next to his brother and tried to remember the few things that would shut him up. Finally, he settled on a soother and stuck it into his mouth before scooping him up with a sigh. Lucifer suckled contentedly on the honey flavored baby toy and attached himself to Michael's chest. Then he suddenly had _two _feathered bundles of joy curled up against him for warmth.

Sighing and muttering to himself, he adjusted his hold on the two passengers and took flight. He absently wondered why Gabriel could teleport himself while Lucifer couldn't. Actually, he wondered how Gabriel could teleport himself at all and then resolved to just stop thinking about it and hope it goes away. It usually didn't when it came down to his brothers, but someday, the universe would take pity on him and just stop throwing this random shit towards him and just leave well enough alone. The two fledglings, now bundled together in a feathery ball, were cooing and poking at each other's face. Lucifer somehow managed to catch Gabriel's eye and he had to make a pit stop in order to calm them both down. Three seconds after he took flight again, Gabriel smacked Lucifer and made him drop his soother, which in turn nearly made _Michael _drop due to the sheer strength of Lucifer's wailing.

Oh, but that wasn't all. In a parody of every road trip come to horrific life, he got distracted and somehow managed to run into a bird. He wasn't harmed, of course, but the bird? Yeah, not so much. With it's little head snapped around the wrong way and hanging limply in his hand, he was forced to prepare an impromptu funeral even though it would end up back where it started immediately after it died. The fledglings, however, refused to be picked up until the deed was done, so Michael found a patch of dirt to bury it in, said a few words and took off.

There was also the incident where Michael relaxed his arm a little too much for his g-force flight speed and had to make a panicked dive in order to collect a screaming dark-haired fledgling before he hit the ground. After that he cuddled them closely and flew upside down so that if he dropped them, they would at least land on his chest. The shell-shocked look on his face was sure to stay for awhile but Lucifer looked quite proud of himself, spreading his little wings and making bird calls. Gabriel was pouting cutely and eyeing his brother with something that looked scarily close to mischief. And then he suddenly pushed him back out of Michael's arms. The screams this time were closer to anger than fear and he promptly decided that after he scooped up Lucifer _again,_ he would stop and wait for someone to take one of the troublesome fluff balls.

Therefore, a nearby cherub was wing-jacked so that he could carry the golden-eyed little demon that was Gabriel._ Godamnit. _And that was also how a five minute trip by wings turned into well over a half-hour, with several more unspeakable incidents a la Gabriel that ended up with Michael resembling a drowned rat and the cherub who would greatly prefer to stay nameless scorched and covered in soot. There hadn't been any plans to dive into Hell, but that's what you get when the fledgling you're holding jumps on one of your wings.

Raphael met them at the gate accompanied by Ariella. Michael took to slamming his head off of the golden posts that held the gates when the little devil actually had the balls to reach for Ariella and coo at her like an innocent baby. The cherub kind of just gaped and slunk away, muttering to himself things like 'never again' and 'shoot myself if ever…'.

Michael greatly shared his sentiments.

However, in the arms of Ariella both of the fledglings were on their best behavior so at least that was something. Lucifer's cats had all gathered around in order to examine their master, trailing their tails under his chin and purring like mad at the fact that they could baby him again. Cats; who knew what they were thinking? The effect on the gathered angels was instantaneous. Several jostled to the front in order to get a glimpse of the helpless Devil while others jeered to have him removed from Gabriel's vicinity. The squeal of pain from where one of the angels poked the babe with a sword was enough to get both Ariella and the cats snarling and, surprisingly enough, a dive-bombing from the parrots, who appeared to like Lucifer a hell of a lot more than Gabriel.

The resulting squabble caused a thunderstorm that covered most of the northern continents and little itty bitty pieces of the south. Raised angelic voices crashed and rolled throughout Heaven, causing human souls to cower in fear and the divine to raise their heads in either curiosity or sorrow. Meanwhile, a certain Titaness gazed horrified into her pool and wondered just what she had wrought. Soon enough, weapons clashed as the angels fought young against old, those who had heard only stories and those that had known the heart behind the hatred. Ariella roared a challenge to anyone who came near, a menagerie of animals rearing, hissing and biting any who had the intent to harm.

God watched.

Suddenly, with a mighty cry, the gentle Joshua, gardener of Eden, grabbed a scythe from a youngsters' hands and threw it heavily into the crowd. There was immediate silence as the younger angels stared in shock at the wise old teacher, who was breathing heavily and had a twitchy left eye. Gabriel started screaming his little(again, nonexistent,) lungs out and Lucifer just looked around with a pitiful heart-shaped face and fluffy little wings drawn inwards in a do-it-yourself cuddle. The scythe had lopped the blade clean off of a sword just inches away from the Morningstar's face. The angel to whom that blade belonged was breathing heavily and had a light splatter of shining gore on his face, but just kept staring into the eyes of an innocent devil.

It came to him then, in the back of his mind, that he had no right to judge someone for what they had done before his creation. That whatever evils such a creature had done belonged solely to the past and had no right to linger in a brightening future. And maybe, just maybe, even the Devil himself deserves a second chance. Much like wild animals that were brutally murdered in the name of humanity, Lucifer had done no wrong that had not been planned out for him in advance. It was little more than an instinct, the gift of fierce love and loyalty that had caused the horrific war that shattered Heaven, though jealousy had played it's factor. After all, who wanted to be forgotten?

But then, that was deep in the back of his mind and the angel had no qualms about ignoring the thought completely. This was the demon who hid behind innocence like a shroud, burying who and whatever came close enough to taste his poison. This in front of him was the one who would cast his own brothers and sisters down, down, down from the Heavens in a torrent of fire, ice and endless pain and sorrow. The golden child who could do no wrong turned evil incarnate. _And how suiting it should be that he fall at the hands of an Angel of Mercy? _He thought as the remnants of his sword cut deeply, drawing up blood as blue as the ocean. He gazed into those eyes as the fledgling fell towards the ground, made up of tiny bones that would shatter on impact and delicate wings that would never again be able to fly.

Then again, when has the world ever done as expected?

The fall was cut short of the ground by another tiny creature, one who knew love and hate and mischief all in equal bounds. One who was just as breakable, but always willing to be broken so that something would be able to be fixed. Getting to the point, Gabriel teleported himself under Lucifer to break his fall and also several dozen sensitive bones in his wings. The savior himself broke a few ribs and displaced a disc in his spine. And the unnamed angel fell to the heavy blade of an angered Titaness, who discovered that what was broken could only be fixed with time.

So as the two fledglings wailed and gripped at each other for comfort, curling up into a little ball of opposites, others started to think. _Really_ think, that is, about what they were seeing. They watched silently as the ashes of their brother were swept away in the wind, content with themselves with knowing it was over but wondering what had happened in the first place. Were they really ready to kill a child, for what had been done in the past?

_**Some say that the world will end in fire**_

Murmurs started up as Raphael knelt beside the two bawling fledglings and started to gently prod their injuries back to rights. They pressed in on each other, thinking about past wrongs and how there was still so much hatred, such passionate loathing for something that had happened before their times. How that hatred ruled their everyday lives and made them think, _this is good, this is bad _and maybe blocked out, _I shouldn't be doing this, this is wrong, _and, _I have to do this, because of what he did. _Because to have something good and something bad, there has to be extremes such as divinity and evil and the inability to see the space that sat between in all different shades of colors. Because hatred could be good; it could be a warning, but it can also consume you, raging like a fire until there isn't anything left to burn.

_**Some say in ice**_

After that comes the solid certainty that one person is completely evil and can do nothing good in the world, while others do things, much smaller things, that add up to a grand explosion and yet there isn't anyone to care. Hung up on a certain evil, they miss all the little things done to fill the gaping void left behind by that hated evil. But in hating evil, it often drags even the brightest into the depths of misery and therefore, nothing can be innocent forever. Pastors waste their time preaching about sins and demons when in reality, that is what we are made up of. If not innocence, then intolerance. Angels bowed their heads solemnly amidst the cries of pain from two innocent fledglings, dropping to their knees with tears running down their faces.

God watched in quiet awe as the problem solved itself, still in the mindset that what had come to pass was meant to be. Beside him, Samiel snorted in derision at the chilly indifference of a once loving father before vanishing back to the place where he had come from. _All other planets before this one have ended in fiery hate, _he mused. _This one is special. It will be the one to end from ice._

_**From what I've tasted of desire, I hold with those who favor fire**_

Michael cradled his weeping brothers in his strong arms, fuming noticeably but keeping his grip gentle and loving. It was a far cry from what he used to be when his brothers had left. Usually, there would be flaming swords and burning souls running and screaming to get away from his wrath but now, he was able to hold back. Ariella, on the other hand, went to town with it and completely destroyed the younger generation's weapons and took from them the ability to hold arms unless there was an absolute emergency in which they were all going to die unless all hands were on deck. She returned quickly in order to beam lovingly at her older brothers-turned-miniature. She tickled Lucifer's nose with a feather and murmured, "Hush, dear heart. It's all over now and no one here is going to hurt you."

Gaia fidgeted quietly behind them, guarded by a sturdy pair of seraphim. They wouldn't look at her and refused to let her move. She wanted nothing more than to make everything better; to place kisses on booboos and sing them to sleep. She was a mother, after all. Some may argue that she wasn't the best mother around but she had tried her best. Gaia shifted slightly to get a better look at the silk bandages covering vital points on the tiny bodies and was quickly rebuffed by her guards. She closed her eyes and turned away instead.

Finally, Raphael turned to her and stated, "The spell you wove was indeed powerful, lady Titan. We don't know how to reverse it, but in the name of our holy Father we will bleed it out of you if need be. The spell is not Pagan in origin, nor is it Christian or any other religion you support. We have no way of reversing it if we do not know of it's origins, but that was your intention, was it not?" Raphael stalked around her casually, eyeing her as an owl does to a mouse. "It would be in everyone's best interests if you untangle the web of magicks surrounding our brothers and allowed Father's influence to work."

Gaia stared longingly at the babies when she spoke. "It was merely the way of the river, angel. It twists and turns, never ending and always flowing. Budhism states that when we die, our souls become a part of the river, to be washed clean and given a new start. It will give us our innocence back and life will start anew. Death changed it slightly, forcing the river to flow in a direction it did not know and reversing some of the good it had done. I just prevented it from happening to everyone in the world, holding the souls steady in my arms and giving them something to focus on other than the pain of such an action." She followed him with her eyes and whispered, "I see now that I have done more harm than mercy. I am willing to help your God reverse the spell."

**But if it had to perish twice, I think I know enough of hate,**

"…what are the conditions?"

She sighed. "They will not be as they once were, at least not right away. To cause such a disruption in the river of life is no easy feat and to change it's course immediately after could have terrible consequences. It must be done slowly or else the devastation caused on Earth will be dire."

It was acceptable.

Again, they went into the Garden of Eden under the watchful eyes of Joshua to place both of their brothers into the water. Gaia stayed on the grass, which curled and teased at her hair as she placed herself close enough to be Involved but not enough to evoke God's ire at another god being so close to his sacred place. She closed her eyes and began her soundless chant, God joining in after a few beats as the gibberish that was the language of Khaos flowed between them. There was a notable change in the water and as the watching angels stood in awe, the river began to change. They weren't looking at a simple brook anymore. Instead, they saw an ancient stream flowing and burbling, filled with peaceful faces and relaxed voices whispering of their former lives.

The change was almost unnoticeable, except for the tiny little splash as a current was slightly redirected not even a centimeter, causing the voices to turn to wails of anger and despair. The Archangels flinched at the sound and Ariella made as if to cover her ears, but just as suddenly as it began the painful sound stopped. Gaia reached out for the fledglings but was instantly batted away with a hiss from one of Lucifer's many cats. Michael searched for any changes, but was stopped short by the shrieks from both of the babes, which signified that they had not healed as much as he thought they would. Gabriel whimpered tearfully and shocked them all by suddenly calling for Castiel. It sounded more like 'Casil', but call it an educated guess.

**To say that for destruction, Ice is also great,**

Castiel, who had been somewhat lost during the proceedings, was promptly dragged away from his humans and given a clingy fledgling before being told to carry on with what he was doing. Slightly bewildered at the sudden change of scenery, Castiel did as he was told and took them back to Earth.

Sam looked up from his research only to receive an armful of angel from an angst ridden Gabriel as he whined and babbled away with his little body covered in bandages. Shocked, he blinked at a growing stain on one of the pristine shimmering clothes and wondered if it would be considered blasphemy to change divine bandages. The babbling continued endlessly until Michael, tired and dull-eyed, realized he had just sent his little brother to a place that was full of creatures and Hellbeasts, and promptly poofed him back into the nest in Heaven, leaving two frozen Winchesters and a still confused Castiel behind. Giving them both a snuggle, Michael examined them critically and noticed nothing had changed. He immediately began wondering if it was better this way.

It was too late now.

**And would suffice.**

He would deal with it, whatever _it _was.

_**Robert Frost~ Fire and Ice**_

**Next up, we have the fast-forwarded version of Angel growth, puberty and all that fun stuff that no one talks about during high school reunions. Also features Gaia throwing Death under the bus, nightmares, wing gore and other things that I will pull out of a hat when I start the next chapter. Bye!**


	29. Second Childhood

**I suck.**

**Disclaimer: Don't own much of anything, really. I'm flat broke. Can't afford a lawyer, so I don't own SPN.**

Chapter 29: Second Childhood

All was surprisingly peaceful.

After the incidents of the previous week, Michael was glad to just have his entire body covered in little fledgling and cats, with a hint of wolf thrown in for good measure. He was absolutely thrilled that his Grace was being cut off by hundreds of pounds of soul made solid, while simultaneously being gagged by a feathery appendage that had been aggressively shoved into his mouth just ten minutes prior. He loath-er, _loved _how Balthazar just stood there, somehow getting reception on his iPhone 5 and taking blackmail photos of Heaven's mighty commander being snuggled like a teddy bear. And where were Raphael and Ariella during all of this? They were further into the nest, happily abandoned by the brood that were currently surrounding (re: on top of) their eldest brother.

Gabriel and Lucifer themselves were not so heavy as to cause any kind of discomfort. Of course, then the fledglings, who had apparently lost their adult capabilities of retaining heat, shivered, and suddenly he was on the bottom of a puppy pile. One that he had no hope in Hell of getting out of without being mauled by an angry and very territorial cat. Sighing, he relaxed his muscles and let his head loll to the side so he could watch the sunrise. One week and there had still been no change in his brothers. Every time the sun started glowing, Raphael would measure them for any kind of change and so far, there had been nothing. No, worse than that. Lucifer was actually still shrinking. He had stopped just a few hours ago and prompted the creation of this monstrosity that he was now a part off.

Someone sighed off in the corner of the nest. Straining to raise his head, he met the amused eyes of Aziraphael and pled, "Brother, please! Take at least one of them so that I can get up. And perhaps the cats, as well. The wolves are better trained."

The Seraph looked at him and said musingly, "Well, I suppose I could take Lucifer off of your hands. Some of his old garrison have been wanting to see the little devil. No pun intended. But in exchange, you must do something for me."

"Anything….within reason, that is."

"Okay. Get me Monty Python and the Holy Grail."

"…what."

"Teseraph saw it once when he was on earth and apparently, it's not half bad. Actually, the movie quality is horrible, the effects are cheap and the opening lasts forever but it's a comedy. And everybody needs to hear a joke that doesn't end in-"

"God. Yes, yes, I know. We are all lacking in humor. But really? You want me to fly down to earth, find a copy of the movie, a VCR, a television and a remote just for taking one of these hell beasts off of my chest?"

"Yes."

"…deal."

And that is how Monty Python ended up in Heaven's movie case. Wriggling free of his lightened load, he managed to stuff Gabriel into one of his wings and take off before any of the creatures were awake enough to notice. Lucifer remained blissfully unaware that his caretaker had promptly abandoned him for greener pastures and simply curled up closer to the replacement. The orgy of animals was summarily broken up as they followed their respective masters at a reasonable pace, sprinting through Heaven and making it seem as though Michael were kidnapping the fledgling and was about to dispose of him. The look in their eyes said as much, so he didn't stop until he was a few good yards ahead of them. He then turned is a series of zigzags, said a prayer and landed.

And that was a basic summary of every day for the past God-it's-been-too-long week.

Every day with the crushing, the running, the crying and the blackmail. Every day waiting for something to finally change so that they could all move on with their lives and put the past behind them. Gabriel, now awake, laughed from his plush cage. Michael sighed. Yeah, even he didn't think it would happen. The baby gurgles suddenly became confused and slightly panicked. A startled shriek was enough for Michael to whip open his wing and scoop out the fledgling. The _growing _fledgling.

Staring at Gabriel, he first noticed that the down was starting to fall off of his wings. It went slowly, but soon there was a mass of golden fluff on his feet and already ruined robes. The hair grew longer and thicker, with more gold in it now than blonde. It also migrated to cover his face completely, so after it finished growing out Michael just pulled it into a semi-neat braid. Feathery appendages grew a couple of inches. A thought then occurred to him; fingers creeping up the fledgling's back, he felt a couple of spaces between his shoulder blades. The powerful wail went on for what seemed like an eternity so he had to conclude that Gabriel's other pair of wings were going to grow in after he hit the point of angelic puberty. Joy.

Muffling his sigh with a palm on his face, he scooped his brother back into his wing and took off back towards the Pantheon. The animals had all dispersed, thank Father. He wasn't in the mood for being mauled by several different species of animals up to and including the platypus. Thankfully, Raphael was there with his measuring tape and scales ready to receive a sniffling fledgling. He took one look, raised both eyebrows and frowned. "I assume you had something to do with this? Possibly by poking him somewhere where it should have been obvious that it would cause great pain?"

Yeah. Now that he thought about it, it wasn't such a good idea. He cringed at the thought of what Lucifer would have done to him. Then cringed further when he realized that Lucifer was going to have to grow out _his _extra pairs of wings as well. It was something he hadn't had to do the first time around, but then Death visited and told Father that with great power should come great responsibility as well as suffering to insure that power wouldn't be used for something catastrophic. Like blowing up all of the known universe. So after that, all angels with more than one pair of wings went through what humans like to call 'puberty'. They didn't get pimples or things like that, but their voices got an extra echo or ten depending on the rank, so singing might be a bit awkward up until they got used to that. Michael shuddered. Lucifer wasn't a particularly good singer to begin with.

He was abruptly given an angry thwap on the head by a slightly larger fuzzy wing and was gifted with indignant squawks that sounded almost like words, if one were to mentally add a few syllables and such. Eyeing his brother in trepidation, he turned to Raphael and opened his mouth. Before he could say anything, he was cut off. "No, I will not take him off of your hands. I have my own tribulations to take care of without stopping every three patients to halt his sniveling. Do you have any idea of how much of a mess my incompetent healers have made since I stepped out? Father, there must be thousands of angels with improperly set wing bones, coughing fledglings developing the plague and sword wounds caused by improper technique! Do you know how long it's going to take to fix this?"

Michael was already half-way across the Pantheon with a contented fledgling suckling on his flight feathers.

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In another part of Heaven, Aziraphael was severely regretting his decision to take a baby Lucifer with him, even if it did win him Monty Python. The little devil wouldn't stop crying for Michael. He was starting to wonder what he felt like more; a kidnapper or a pedophile. Glancing at where Lucifer's toga should have been three seconds ago, he smacked a hand to his face and sighed. It was in a tree. Not on his body, but on a poor delicate little peach tree that was silently laughing at his misery. He had never liked peaches anyways.

Lucifer had just had the same growth spurt as Gabriel, only he had started to grow faster. He assumed it was because Lucifer had more catching up to do, since he was the elder. The fledgling was standing at his hip and rubbing at his teary eyes, hiccupping and whining like a toddler who missed nap time. If he was going to be honest, it was almost adorable if not for the fact he had been witness to the worst tantrum imaginable.

Finally, he gave up on Michael. He then unfortunately started to cry for his daddy. And when Lucifer cried this time, they weren't the tears of a simple tantrum. It was the cry of a child who had just lost his world, the center of his very being, without even knowing it was there until it was ripped away. Like a seven year old asking in complete innocence why fluffy wasn't coming back from the vet. Aziraphael whimpered in despair.

Help came in the form of an angel with firm, yet tender eyes carrying a petite cat and some catnip. The Bengal was quick to twine himself around the baby's body, rumbling up a storm and soothing with a scratchy tongue. Joshua turned to him and murmured kindly, "It is best to leave him to either Michael or his Pride at this point. There is nothing anyone can do when he gets like this except wait out the storm." He turned away to pick up the tearful fledgling and the cat. "Come with me. The garden is full of chamomile and the roses have finally bloomed. They have always loved the presence of the Morningstar and he will be glad of their comfort."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aziraphael followed.

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Michael relaxed in a palm tree, calmly handing over candied dates to his baby brother and watching in bemusement as they disappeared down his gullet. The soft coos that followed were worth the sticky coating of sugar that remained on every part of him after several sticky kisses and snuggles. He sighed and relaxed further when the song of the Seraphim, soft and sweet, began to call to the dawn. Ever since God had left, the song had been hesitant, almost nonexistent in even its entirety. So many of them had fallen that the chorus had broken for many centuries after the Fall from heartbreak and despair. Only now after the return of the Archangels and the voice of God had they returned to their harmony. However, there were still so many voices missing.

Scooping up Gabriel, he made his meandering way over to the plains where several angels were gathered to sing their praises. But not nearly enough. Sighing sadly, he counted the faces of those he had known from before his battle with Lucifer and could find only three. Seraphael himself, Dimirael and Sakrael. They bowed their heads slightly in acknowledgement but didn't meet his eyes. What had become of the rest of the choir had fallen fast into legend, nothing more than a fearsome story to scare fledglings into behaving. Of all the Seraphim, they had suffered the most.

They had been called Watchers. The Seraphim had gazed through the clouds shrouding mankind from their sights and had seen carnage. However, they weren't disgusted. They became intrigued and concerned about the little specks they has seen from afar. So after a good deal of arguing, a piece of Grace from each had been taken and from it, the Grigori were formed. Michael had contributed, as well, creating a few of his own to serve as protectors to the peaceful Watchers. Gabriel, though….

He became obsessed.

He created his Grigori out of love and worry, so they became healers. He watched over them watching over the humans like a parent, constantly preening and praising them for their actions. And they did well, truly. They fit into human life just as well as Gabriel did now.

Gabriel's children were the first to fall.

They were made of love and worry and so, wanted to taste the same love that had created them. They wanted to care for someone more than what their restrictions allowed and so, they wanted freedom. Something which could never be given to any angel, let alone those carrying the Grace of an Archangel. So the Grigori sinned. They drank, fought, envied, lusted, raged and grew arrogant of their power. They had children with mortals, and watched them grow and grow and grow into monsters. They rebelled against Heaven and all that it stood for and they still had the protection of Gabriel, right until the moment he had Uriel drown the entire settlement.

Admittedly, not one of his best moments but he had hoped for forgiveness. Which was so far out of sight even after all these years that he was wondering whether or not the Grigori had taken Gabriel's joy with them. It had certainly taken pieces of the Seraphim. Some couldn't bear to sing again while others lost track of their being, and retreated into the emotionally painless world of paperwork.

He sighed and banished his guilt. It didn't matter now; what is done cannot be undone. Or at least not without consequences. Gabriel was holding out his arms imperiously and cooing to be held by Seraphiel, so he plopped him unceremoniously into the choirmaster's arms. The golden eyes watched him keenly before turning away dismissively. As he walked away, Michael could hear the owner of those golden eyes' equally golden tone as the fledgling raised his voice and sang. Smiling slightly at the sound, he watched all of Heaven flourished as the raised voices called home the lost and weary. He stopped and waited to hear Seraphiel.

Seraphiel's voice hadn't been heard in millennia.

For only a second, the voices faltered but then a new one was added. All around the glades, the duet of Holy Messenger and Choirmaster was heard, warming the leaves of plants and trees and caressing as gently as a breeze. Michael smiled. The tune was as beautiful as it was ancient, sung in a dialect that not many understood anymore.

He decided it was time to find Lucifer. But there was something he had to do, first. Michael did not open his wings and fly, instead walking steadily to the east where the Pantheon stood. A small bush blazed steadily while the leaves stayed green. He stopped momentarily to brush a hand through the fire and bring it to his face. Next came a small pool of water, which he sprinkled over his heart but didn't drink. He cupped some in his hands and brought it to a small tree. At the first touch of water, it grew steadily and produced a single peach, just as flawed as any on earth. Michael smiled before feeding it to a tiny bat that squeaked as it licked the juice off of his fingers.

An owl flew down then, gazing at him with questioning eyes. It tilted its head this way and that before finally taking off. An opening formed in the earth and, with a covert glance around, he descended into the dark. Candles lit upon his entrance and upon reaching the bottom, he came upon a cloth-covered object. Michael hesitantly pulled it back to reveal a softly colored harp, golden in some lights and rainbow in others. He plucked a string, creating a perfect B sharp. Breathing out a sigh, he lifted it in his arms. It was child sized, a relic from his fledgling years. The only thing that could sooth Lucifer to sleep.

Quietly, in his little grotto, he played his harp to the melody of Gabriel and Seraphiel, mouthing the words as his fingers stroked the strings. A complicated harmony flowed from the instrument and far off, the wailing of a child stopped. He suddenly had a young fledgling on his lap, peering at his from beneath a mop of golden hair. The singing never stopped. It went on for a day and a night until all was peaceful in the kingdom of Heaven.

And then Lucifer woke up.

A massive cry went up. "Mik'ael! Mik'ael! Wan' bruder! Why he weave me? Mik'ael!" wailed a tiny bodied, large-lunged fledgling. Gabriel cooed indignantly in his arms, still unable to talk. Michael found himself actually missing the sound of his baby brother's voice. The golden eyes, however, looked out at him keenly. With a tap on his cheek and a babyish gurgle, Gabriel vanished to somewhere that was hopefully not dangerous and/or emotionally scarring. To anyone.

Ha. Yeah, right.

Sighing, Michael wondered if this is how mothers felt as he took off into the fresh morning air. The grotto closed behind him as he made his way to Lucifer, who was currently sobbing into the chest of a very awkward looking Aziraphael, sounding as though his puppy had been kicked into oncoming traffic. Wincing at a particularly loud wail, he was debating the merits of smothering the fledgling in his toga when Michael back-flapped and landed neatly on his left. He sighed in relief and handed over his bundle of screaming joy. "For the record, this was _not_ worth what I asked for. It's like watching Bambi and knowing the mother dies."

A passing cherub stops in its tracks, eyes wide. Michael face-palmed. He knew exactly where this was going. Hang-dog eyes glistening in the sun, the tiny angel whimpered out, "B-Bambi's mother _dies?_"

"…shit."

Michael eyed the cherub apprehensively and started to edge away, stopping only to hiss, "Language!" before absconding. It was too late, though. Lucifer's unbridled joy at being held by his big brother was overshot only by learning a new word. One that Michael wasn't happy with him knowing when he was millions of years old, and even less happy with now. "Oh, for fuck's sake…"

His eyes widened in horror.

"Fuck, shit!" Chirped Lucifer.

Whimpering worse than the Cherub, Michael called it quits and decided to move on with his life. Now left alone with a swearing fledgling that did, indeed, seem bigger than when he had last seen him, he had no idea what he was supposed to do. "This was so much easier when I was a fledgling," he muttered. "At least Gabriel isn't getting into trouble…" Or at least world-ending trouble. However, the second he gets to Purgatory, all bets are off.

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Castiel stared blankly into the abyss, occasionally tilting his head from side to side in order to better observe the phenomenon before him. Which, there really wasn't one. He was just staring at Gabriel. Which, he probably shouldn't have been since the Archangel was now completely focused on him instead of the squeaky toy Dean had been distracting him with. Said squeaky toy was soon discarded in favor of lunging at the Archangel when he made quick, coordinated moves towards Castiel's wings.

It didn't help.

Sighing in dismay at the future state of his wings, Castiel watched as the feathered tips disappeared into a fledgling's mouth. Gabriel suckled contentedly, foregoing biting in favor of savoring the taste of angelic feather with his tongue. Castiel's shoulders slumped and he shivered in disgust. Gabriel looked up at him and let out a muffled chirp, spitting out a few feathers. The Seraph sighed and admitted privately that his mentor was adorable and probably had all of Heaven wrapped around his pinky finger. He also accepted that Michael's wings were in far worse condition, after being used as a cradle.

Just as he accepted this, Bobby walked through the door. Eyeing the de-aged Archangel, he took in the situation before pulling his trump card. A bundle of squealing fledgling launched himself into the older man's arms before latching onto the bottle. Seeing his awe, Bobby explained, "Its milk, honey and cinnamon. Honestly, you idjets should know better than anyone about that sweet tooth of his."

Castiel acknowledged this with a slight dip of his head as he watched Gabriel suck down the milk mixture like a pig with swill. It was a miracle none of it made its way down his front, as well. With a surprisingly tiny burp, Gabriel flipped around in Bobby's arms in order to cuddle up to his chest. He looked slightly perturbed by this, but allowed it. He did, however, draw the line at allowing the tiny pain in the ass to burrow up through his shirt. Castiel cradled him nonchalantly in his arms after he was sent flying for his shirt escapades. The fledgling patted him on the cheek and gurgled thankfully. He simply nodded in acknowledgement of the deed and went on with his life.

Gabriel cooed and flapped his larger-than-before wings. Castiel frowned upon noticing them and instructed, "Gabriel, say dog."

"Murgle…"

Castiel furrowed his brow and hummed under his breath. Gabriel hummed back. Castiel sang a note. Gabriel sang it back. Castiel said "Gabriel." Gabriel said "Neep!"

Sam blinked. "I don't think the word association thing is going well, Cas."

Gabriel shrieked and dove for Sam, who up until now had been sleeping off three straight days of research. Sam caught him easily, barely fazed by the fuzzy little chicken wings that were slapping him in the head. Dean stared for a second, then muttered darkly, "Traitor…" Gabriel turned to look at him, hurt radiating from his eyes, and began bawling. "Um, I mean Trickster. Yeah. That."

Castiel sighed and finally faced reality. It was time to put Gabriel down for a nap. Taking him from Sam, he tried to tuck him into a wing that, as he soon discovered, was not at all to Gabriel's liking. He mused that it probably had something to do with the fact that they hadn't been groomed in a while, smelled like a dumpster and weren't Michael's or Lucifer's. Yes, that was most likely the reason. It was also the reason he was currently holding _two _fledglings, now, instead of one. Lucifer was still a very protective brother, it seemed. He glared narrowly at Castiel and wrapped his slightly larger arms around the still bawling Gabriel.

Castiel obligingly looked away in mock fear and wondered how long he would last without Michael within eyesight. He glanced back and sighed. Lucifer was already looking around expectantly, eyes wide and questioning, letting out uncertain chirps that quickly died. Soon, he was joining Gabriel in his fit of temper. Naps, he thought, are rare and glorious things. The combined crying was beginning to make the house shake.

Dean glanced around frantically before apparently seeing something outside. He sprinted through the door, only to come back with a mangy alley cat with one eye and snaggleteeth. He plopped the cat on the couch before backing away to nurse his bleeding, probably rabies-inducing, scratched hand. Praising God, Castiel left the Archangels to the cat's tender mercies and immediately flew to Heaven. Landing, he had the sudden urge to kiss the clouds at his feet but a glance told him it was likely not the best idea. Thunderclouds are best left alone.

Michael met him at the front gates, a rare smile curving up his lips. "They have decided to cause Hell on earth, have they?" Castiel nodded. "That's fine. As long as they don't actually raise Hell, they won't have to be brought back here to cause complete and total chaos." He sighed at the hopeful look Castiel was giving him. "Don't stare at me like that. It isn't _my_ fault you have both of the little winglets currently driving you insane." Castiel glared judgmentally. "_Yes_, I know that this is technically all my fault and _no, _I am not freeing you from them."

Castiel sighed. "Gabriel began making those horrid sounds because…he was tired? Hungry? Suffering from some horrendous Archangelic disease?"

"Most likely the first one. He could never sleep properly unless he was held by someone, preferably myself or Lucifer. Although, this one time with Death suggests-"

"Michael, where are our brothers? I have been informed of their disappearance and am greatly concerned for their safety, amongst the Neanderthals," Raphael cuts in, completely monotone. Because there was _definite _worry, there.

Michael sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off the impending mental breakdown. "They are currently with the brothers Winchester, Raphael. They will be safe for at least tonight. However, if you wish to see them then you are welcome to both pick them up and continue caring for them. If not, then they shall stay in the abode of Robert Singer until one or both of them decided to investigate the dinosaurs in the Paleozoic, Cretaceous or Mesozoic era. Until that time, which I severely hope is at least a week from now, they shall re-"

"Lord Michael! It would appear Gabriel and Lucifer are riding on the backs of wooly mammoths!" shouted an anxious seraphim.

Michael moaned in despair. Ice Age. The idiots had shown them Ice Age. This could only end badly. Quickly shedding the time stream beneath his wings, he soared in the turquoise sky of the last ice age. It didn't take long to detect the wailing of two tiny fledglings, mainly because of the panicked trumpeting of a herd of curly-haired mammoths. Panicking slightly, he swooped down only to find absolute carnage.

His baby brothers were directly underfoot of the herd, Lucifer holding his wing and bawling his little heart out. Gabriel was clinging to him but was screaming at the mammoths in a language nobody could or ever would understand, scrunching up his tiny fists and breaking the legs of the terrified mammoths when they got close. The charred remains of some kind of big cat hunter lay at their feet, being trampled upon by massive feet. Michael gaped. They had only been out of his sight for a few hours. In those few hours, apparently Lucifer had thrown a tantrum that caused a major earthquake in California that caused the deaths of 37 women, 29 men and three squirrels. Gabriel had eaten out a Hershey's chocolate store and now the manager was about to become both broke and fired. And, not to mention the decimation of half a herd of woolly mammoths.

Sinking slowly to the ground, Michael twitched absently in shock before raising a hand and starting The Holy Prayer. He was chanting weakly in Enoch when Gabriel glanced over and saw him. With twin squeals, there were two fledglings on his lap. Lucifer let out a tiny sob and showed his big brother the booboo he had received, which was quite obviously a horrendous and gaping wound and not a bruise. No, not at all. Michael just sighed and held them both, muttering pleas for divine intervention under his breath. Nothing happened, but he had the distinct feeling that God was laughing at him.

Tucking them both into his second pair of flight wings, Michael took off for home with two sniffling fledglings and whatever was currently trying to eat his wings. He _really_ hoped it was Gabriel.

That first week marked a change in his fledgling's development. It took a while, but soon they were growing at least once every day. Which brought about the dreaded event that would never be recorded in the Pantheon because the fear of _That Day_ would haunt them forever. _That Day _that made the commander Michael cringe in horror, and God turn his eyes away and wince.

The day that Lucifer grew out his second and third pairs of wings. God help us all.

**I suck.**


	30. In Which Puberty Takes Its Toll

**Hello, all! You should probably have realized by now that this story is being pulled out of my ass every step of the way. So, I have no idea how this chapter is going to go. I also would love a beta. Seriously. Volunteers? Please?**

**Disclaimer: I don't even work FOR the network. Why the hell would the network work for me?**

Chapter 30: In Which Puberty Takes Its Toll: Part 1

Puberty. The gift that keeps on giving. Hair growing in places where it seems hair should not be allowed to grow, pimples popping up like an unwelcome houseguest and gradually turning into horrible, horrible acne. Bleeding occurs whe- you know what, let's skip that part. Male voices crack like sticks in a forest. Relationships are formed, hormones become supercharged and oh, look, teenage pregnancy. Ah, yes, the wonder of nature's version of _absolute hell._

Another version of Hell is what Michael was currently in. He could remember a time just three hours ago when there was only one echo of Lucifer's little voice, sweet and distant like any good baby archangel. Now, there were ten. And he couldn't control it. Wincing at a slightly higher than normal squawk, he praised the Lord and all of the little humans that he could visibly see the changes in his brother's back muscles. Broader and thicker, they made up a good portion of his total size right now. It also made him look slightly ridiculous, since his chest hadn't quite followed through with the growth. Laughing only made him angry, though.

Gabriel was still quite young, but had gotten the hang of some simple words and phrases. Many of which included swears from various continents and cultures, something that both Michael and Raphael were resigned to. It was no use telling their siblings not to swear; there hadn't been any fledglings for centuries. They were all out of practice. So now, he had a grumbling demi-fledgling on the brink of puberty and a cling-on that not only refused to walk, but also refused to get off of Michael's back.

Gabriel had been clinging since the incident with the wooly mammoths, and Lucifer refused to be used as a climbing toy. Which was unfortunate, because he was Gabriel's favorite. He saved the extra special sloppy kisses for Lucifer, plucked weeds out of the garden and gave them to Lucifer and also braided Lucifer's hair with surprising skill. All this for Lucifer and he wouldn't even be used as a climbing toy.

Granted, said fledgling was currently eating an angel food cake, of all things, while on his shoulders, so Michael could understand why. Sighing, he brushed the crumbs away as best as he could and tuned in to Lucifer's rant on the cherubs and their state of dress. Or rather, undress. "You know, we really should introduce them to a toga. One that covers their legs. And all the other rather important bits. It's not that I _mind _having that shoved in my face, it's just that I really, really hate it when that happens. I keep expecting them to shout 'suck it' or something and it _is _slightly scarring. I am glad that angels do not reproduce, you know that? Patiri showed me this video…"

_Why?_

Michael's left eye gave a convulsive twitch and he silently vowed to ensure Patiri somehow ended up in one of those videos. Possibly with a horse. Yes, that would work. Somehow…

Gabriel, now finished with his snack, decided to hang upside-down. With Michael's hair as a handhold. Whimpering with as much dignity as he could, he caught the eye of the still slightly singed cherub, whose eyes widened as he mouthed '_no_' in various dialects. Michael smiled because the movement caught Gabriel's eye and instead of hanging off of him, he decided to use his little wings to glide over and perch himself on top of the cherub's head. All the better to make fish faces with the poor bastard's cheeks.

Smiling in satisfaction, it promptly froze on his face when he caught sight of the beginning of the end. The apocalypse reborn. The worst disaster to ever hit Heaven since the realization that not even God could look directly into Gabriel's puppy dog eyes and say no. To _anything._

Lucifer was rubbing at his back.

Michael resisted the urge to scream like a tiny prepubescent female and instead settled for widening his eyes and quietly dying on the inside. Such a tiny gesture, so many consequences. Privately, he envisioned hordes of angels running through the gates with as much speed as their wings could give them. The halls of healing overflowing with brothers and sister. Human souls cringing and writhing in agony as the cries ring through the sky.

Oh, dear Lord. Lucifer has to grow his secondary and tertiary wings…

A little whine escaped him as he watched his brother frown and scratch at his back. Turning to him, Lucifer opened his mouth to ask but was quickly cut off by Gabriel's sudden appearance. Sitting snuggly in the space between Lucifer's shoulders and away from those…_Hell makers._ It also had the added effect of stopping Lucifer from scratching, even if a bundle of freshly cleaned feathers was currently disappearing into the maw of a fledgling. Feather sucking. Gabriel never got over it. Lucifer whimpered in disgust but slumped over in defeat. Nothing short of the Jaws of Life were going to remove Gabriel from his prize.

Michael whispered a soft, unnoticed prayer for the divine intervention of a fledgling that didn't even come up to his knees. His brother had just saved his sanity. He was one up from the millions of times he had nearly made Michael lose it completely. He reached over to stroke the downy wings, smiling happily when a squeaky "Mik'ail" flowed off of his brother's tongue. They would be alright.

And three days later, he took it back. _Do you hear me, Atropos? I take it back, dammit! _They would not, repeat NOT be alright. Lucifer's wing activity seems to have calmed down almost completely, but Gabriel's interest in the Winchesters and, God help them, Crowley, had skyrocketed. He regularly glided his way to Hell to snuggle with the Hell pups under the frantic, disbelieving watch of the Fallen. Not that they could really do anything; Gabriel and dogs of any kind seemed to go hand in hand with the damned.

Except for Chihuahuas. _Especially _not Chihuahuas.

Michael froze in shock the first time when Gabriel had come back carefully cradling a mangy Hell pup in his tiny arms. By the fifth, he was annoyed. By the time he reached fifty and he realized that they were all the same puppy and that a few members of the garrison looked _guilty as fuck, _he realized there was absolutely nothing he could do and awaited eternal damnation.

There was a piece of Hell in _Heaven_, for God's sakes!

But no, it gets worse. Raphael found the puppy and, after a lengthy lecture on how it couldn't stay and a massive cleanup for the river of tears that followed, Gabriel had decided that he could not, in fact, keep it. And so, he suckered some poor tart into bringing him to the Winchesters with a baby hellhound. Which is quite clearly a hellhound. As in, just like the ones that had ripped Dean into itty bitty bitsies and dragged him to Hell. That went over about as well as one would think. And then, after an unfortunate bullet hit and managed to kill the damned dog, there was a general influx of angelic activity as the grieving cries of a fledgling threatened to tear apart the United States of America.

Which brings us to where Michael is, still listening to his baby brother wailing his little heart out over a pet that was never a pet and should also never be _kept_ as a pet. He wasn't allowed to put him down and the tears in every other living thing's eyes were streaming like water down a waterfall. His wings were sodden and dripping from the continued crying and Lucifer was glaring at him and oh, God, he was going to start crying too. A tear managed to escape before being slapped away by an angry Ariella, who had taken one look at the mess and promptly blamed it all on Michael. Which, not his fault, but he would take the Hell pup over Ariella any day…

Sighing and rubbing his cheek, he croaked, "What is it you want from me, exactly?"

She glared harder and snapped, "I want my fucking brother back! At first, I thought he was cute as a button, and he is! I thought he was as sweet as angel food cake and guess what, he is! But that is_ not my Gabriel!_ Where are the bad puns? The candy stash? The endless, maddening chatter that drove me halfway to a murder/suicide? What happened to that?"

Michael didn't have the heart to tell her that what she wanted had never been there to begin with. Gabriel's innocence had left him long ago, the wounds hidden behind humor and terrible, terrible junk food. He remained quiet, staring up at her steadily from his position sitting down in the cushy nest. She faltered, then let out a harsh whisper of, "_Life isn't fair."_

"If life were fair, then it would never come to an end. We would never experience happiness or the joy of seeing something new. Yes, we may never have to say goodbye to a loved one but what would existence be if everything were _fair?_ Fair is a myth, Sister, told by humans to describe pretty little princesses too beautiful and stubborn for their own good. _Fair _is what happens in a courtroom when a man falsely accused of murder is put to death in front of his wife and child. _Fair _is…not made for life, Ariella."

She bowed her head in acknowledgment. Michael watched her wearily. She was young; much younger than he, but Michael had been the first. The first to babble his father's true name in love and harmony. The first to love, to lose and to get back up after falling. She had been loved-was _still _loved-for her entire life. As was he, and many others.

All except for Gabriel, and Lucifer.

But then again, life wasn't fair. Was it.

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Lucifer thought about them, the words of his brother.

Idly scratching at his back, drawing blood from a few well-worn welts, he pondered about the meaning of fair and wondered why they hurt his brother so. Had someone mistreated him? Hurt him irredeemably so? Broke his Grace? Whoever it was would be punished to the full extent of his abilities. He was interrupted in his thoughts by the shining eyes of his fledgling brother peering at his from inside the cage of Michael's strong wings. It was strange; he couldn't remember a brother with eyes as golden as honey, yet there he was. A spike of pain flared behind his eyes and, hissing, he gave up.

Instead, he went back to scratching his back. It was itching and burning terribly, but he only scratched in private; because it was both embarrassing and it gave Michael a look like he had just killed his favorite horse. Sad, horrified and somewhat pitiful, if the commander of all of Heaven could be called pitiful. Wincing when he hit a particularly raw part, his fingers brushed up against something moving under his skin. He froze for a second and absently wondered if he had contracted some kind of horrible parasite that burrows under the skin to lay eggs.

Then he just screamed. _"MICHAEL!"_

Michael jolted upright from his position in front of Ariella, swiveling his head in an excellent owl impression. Another cry sounded that was more a sob than a scream, begging for his big brother to come and save him. Michael's lips thinned. _That day had come at last._ Steeling himself, he flew steadily to his wailing brother and gingerly held him to his chest as he sobbed. Humming softly under his breath and waiting patiently for him to breath, Michael stroked the dark head of hair currently burrowed in his chest. This went on for a while, with Michael making soft, unheard shushing sounds while Lucifer's bawling completely overpowered them.

Far away in the distance, God winced in pity and wondered if he could get Death to lift that whole anti-power trip precaution. He then discarded the thought when he remembered how much his counterpart hated Lucifer. Then he just went back to wincing.

Not-as-far-away-as-before, the earth was in turmoil. Large animals decided to take up residence in, well, human residences and no amount of tranquilizer could put them down. A few were shot, but when they healed right in front of the citizen's eyes it was promptly called a miracle. Three deer and a few hundred dogs are going to live the good life for the rest of their years.

It wasn't really a miracle, though. Raphael shut the gates of Heaven so that everyone else would have to suffer with him.

Back to earth. The animals weren't the only things acting crazy. Numerous demons were seen actually attempting to send themselves back to Hell, though the exorcisms became a little strange to see when the one doing it had spasms and seizures on the word 'Christo'. It made them a damn site easier to kill, though, so that was one point in the Winchester's favor. It was like one second they were going to die and the next, the demons were dropping like a dog who'd heard a whistle.

Dean actually whistled in astonishment when a high level demon allowed itself to be ganked, then damn near choked on his own spit when others dropped to their knees and started to beg. Turning in slow circles to take in the pleading demons, he finally shouted, "What the _hell _is going on?"

"That would be Lucifer growing his wings, Bullwinkle. It's the day every living and nonliving thing has been dreading since the moment we heard of his…accident. The screaming is quite unbearable, unless you've had a few million years of learning to block out that annoying whine," drawled Crowley calmly. He was wearing a pair of noise cancelling headphones and carrying a cup of chamomile tea. Which soon shattered on the floor when a small Gabriel swung himself crying into Crowley's arms. "Oi, that was some good tea, you little menace!"

Gabriel sniffled and whined, "Luci!"

Crowley snorted in exasperation. "Little bugger didn't like seeing my former employer in pain, apparently. I, for one, would _love _to see it, if I were certain I would have both my eyes and the ability to hear afterwards. Which I unfortunately am not." He sighed. "I pity the poor bastards that didn't flee when they had the chance. I would imagine that someone has closed the gates after absconding in terror."

"I don't get it," complained Sam. "If he's perfectly safe and all, why should growing his wings change anything? It's not like they'll cause him to become a homicidal maniac again, right?"

"Well, no, but it may just drive Michael to murder," Crowley stated. He sighed at the confusion on their faces. "Alright, Moose, time for archangel 101. A long, long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, there lived a very powerful man and his brood of over-attentive nincompoops that had no idea how to do…anything. At all. So he began creating again and made another little angel, which was Michael. Now, Michael was a feisty little thing and also, spoiled six ways to Sunday. As in, the sun shone out of his ass and he ate butterflies and shat rainbows-God, I don't know! The gist of it is, Michael was a brat. God made Lucifer to teach him responsibility. He raised him like Dean raised you. Lucifer was also a brat. Raphael came along, he was raised by the overbearing ass known as Michael. Death said that they have to earn their power and damned us all to seven days and seven nights of horrendous wailing and tears until the middle child's other sets of wings came in. Gabriel had the same. Long story even shorter, Lucifer never learned responsibility until Gabriel came along, which was several million years after that. Meaning, he never had to go through the whole 'wings breaking through muscle, skin and bone to pop out like an orca at Sea World' deal. Long story summarized into a sentence, Lucifer has never felt pain like this that he can remember and he is the most spoiled little brat you can imagine from years of having Michael at his beck and call. We, meaning the demons and I, equate this to the apocalypse come sevenfold."

There was a long, incredulous pause. Crowley grinned and shoved an attentive Gabriel at Dean. "And that is why every living and nonliving thing on any plane of existence should live underground for the next little while. Ciao!"

Dean sputtered in disbelief and looked around at the puppy eyes of the demons, inching towards them with pleading gestures. Sighing, he patted one on the head none-to-gently and stated, "I'll kill you if you do it to me, first."

_**Meanwhile in Hel- Heaven. I meant Heaven.**_

Michael was going to cry.

Lucifer was already soaking his shoulder with sweat, tears and a plethora of unmentionable substances that will not be mentioned because of reasons. Like sanity. Sanity is a good reason. Michael nodded to himself and resolved not to think about it for the sake of his sanity. Not that it was doing so well to begin with, what with his fully grown brothers coming back in miniature to haunt him, the mammoth ordeal and, well, _this_. He patted his brother's back gently and murmured comforting words under his breath. Meanwhile, there was a cherub behind him attempting to do the same thing to him while petting his wings and offering hugs. Michael was oddly touched by the gesture. If any living thing was willing to brave Lucifer like this, they needed a promotion ASAP. Of course, it wasn't Lucifer he was comforting…

So there they sat, an archangel, his prepubescent archangel brother and a cherub that should have been miles underground by now. And that was when Lucifer finally regained his voice and asked hoarsely, "A-am I pregnant, Michael?"

Nobody cried harder than Michael that day. Except for Death, but for an entirely different reason. If he had to breathe, let's just say he wouldn't be.

The cherub froze, then slowly stood up and flew away, muttering about hugging Patiri to death. Which was definitely something that Michael could get behind entirely. Minus the hugging, perhaps.

_**Back to the Winchesters**_

Dean was currently involved in a game of patty-cake that, to Sam, was more like Russian roulette. For him, anyways. Every time Dean didn't move fast enough he was smacked in the face with a wing, now about the length of an eagle's. It also happened at random with various other body parts capable of inflicting bruises; Gabriel seemed to like the color of them. He was frankly quite surprised that Dean was still playing at all. Lips twitching, he fought off a grin when a small hand snaked out to hammer his brother in the arm with a cheerful, "F'ck!"

He could only imagine where he had learned that before. Dean had been taught out of swearing around children years ago and he rarely took part in it. His lips twitched again and he finally let himself grin. Heh, angels swearing. It was so far away from everything he had ever been told about angels that it…fit in with the rest of it, actually. It really shouldn't surprise him anymore.

Castiel finally saved Dean from the slap-happy baby with the promise of chocolate. Copious, ridiculous amounts of chocolate. Which apparently wasn't to his taste whatsoever as, in the spirit of healthy childhoods, Castiel had bought bitter dark chocolate for the sweet toothed angel babe. Yeah, it was a no go. The cries nearly drowned out the sound of demons begging for death.

"Sh't," agreed Gabriel with a happy chirp. Sam sighed in resigned agreement. They were in deep shit, alright.

**I'm going to end it here for now and post this, so you know I'm alive. I haven't had much time to write with last semester's classes, but good news! This semester is a cakewalk. Life! How I have missed you!**


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